


Soulmates

by egossweetheart



Category: Homestuck, Soul Eater
Genre: Abuse Mentions, Aradia Megido - Freeform, Body Horror, EriSol - Freeform, Homestuck - Freeform, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mom Lalonde - Freeform, Soul Eater - Freeform, The Summoner - Freeform, davekat - Freeform, its gonna start getting real bloody real fast, karezi pining, rosemary, souleaterstuck, vrisrezi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-07-27 18:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16224563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egossweetheart/pseuds/egossweetheart
Summary: After losing his partner to chronic lesbianism, Karkat is left to find a new one. With half of the year left his options are low, and he needs to keep his grades up. There's no option but to suffer through the new transfer student.Suffer being the optimal word.





	1. Soul Compatibility- Making a Good Impression?

**Author's Note:**

> You can see character art and contact me about the au at egosweetheart.tumblr.com/

She left you. You knew she would, eventually. You were partners after all. If you were dumb enough not to notice her making goo goo eyes at that violent sociopath of a meister, then you might have deserved it too. But you did notice. You noticed and you kept noticing, and like an idiot you never thought to address the issue with her. She should’ve been loyal, like you, or at least tolerated you long enough to finish the course. After all, a death scythe has no master but death himself. She could’ve worked with anyone, if she had just stayed on track. With you. And not _her_.

It’s fine. Terezi and Vriska could have their fun romp of a partnership, and once Terezi realizes Vriska just needs a replacement for Tavros, Terezi will come running back to you, hazy blind eyes welling with tears and arms wide open for the warm protective embrace you have waiting for her. She’ll see. Well. Ok she won’t see, but still.

Vriska’s been through more partners than you’ve had tantrums this year. That can either say something to your improved character or her deteriorating reputation, but either work for the point your trying to make. That point being, if Vriska broke one of her partners before, what’s to say she won’t be reckless with her next weapon. It’s just irresponsible.

Unfortunately, waiting periods aren’t exactly acceptable at the DWMA. Not with the excess of weapons in the school waiting for suitable meisters to train with. You’re assigned a new student, one who hasn’t tested well with other available meisters. You need to practice with this new student to see if he has any potential in the field or if he’ll be going into general training just to get his abilities under control. Without a partner, a weapon can be dangerous. You feel just a little bit proud to know you’re helping people hone their abilities, even if you were set on helping Terezi specifically. You’re going to miss her a lot. You should probably call her later.

Later, though. Right now, you’re entering one of the many arenas designed to help weapon/meister pairings gain initial compatibility. Testing out styles and form is important, but only after seeing if the balance between wills is tenable. Soul compatibility above all else. Entering the doorway, you notice one of your teachers talking to a boy. He’s tall, his blonde hair slicked until flicking up, as if barely contained by the gel. He stands casually as if he’s known Mr. Nitram for a while, but based on his clothing choices, clearly casualness is the goal. He’s managed to make a suit jacket look like leisure wear. You have to admit, you’re a little jealous. Guys like this get easy attention around here. You’ve known Sollux long enough to know. You straighten out your sweater before moving past the doorway and out onto the field. Even past the shades he’s wearing, you can tell he’s paying attention. He points you out to Mr. Nitram, who greets you warmly, and turns so the two of you can be engaged at the same time. 

“Hello Karkat! Punctual as usual. I expected nothing less from you.” 

“Thank you professor. Getting up this early is a bitc-... trial, but I’m here to work.” You bite your cheek and thank death that Mr. Nitram is pretty lax about language slip ups. You’re not great at keeping things PG.

“Good to hear. Dave was just telling me how eager he was to start the practice. Have you two met?” Nitram gestures his arm over to Dave, who seems much less put together now that he knows you’re paying attention. Nervous doesn’t bode well.

“No professor. Not yet. I haven’t even seen him in class.”

“I was busy doin’ shit. You know how it gets, pounding that dirt, something about a grindstone. Plus I had an ass load of paperwork to get through to get into the course this late in the year. I was swimming in paper cuts and hand cramps.” He speaks with one hand up, the other in his pocket, letting his fingers swim in the air. His tone is flat but his face from what you can see is pretty expressive. The only thing keeping him from being totally animated is his stiff posture and his big shades. Guarded, but workable. Nitrams lack of comment about the language Dave uses gives you a push to be more comfortable speaking.

“Lets hope you can handle combat, then. Paper cuts are fucking nothing compared to most of the shit we do.” Nitram gives you a look. Like he wants to chastise you for swearing but clearly doesn’t want do so in front of Dave. You get a little smug about it.

“Alright boys. I’m going to go up into the booth. Karkat’s one of our top students, so I have confidence he can handle a basic practice, but if either of you need help, I’ll be right there.” He claps a hand on Daves shoulder, and walks up to the booth. Dave doesn’t even flinch, but his chin tightens into a small frown.

You try to keep things flowing casually. “So, what are you?”

“What am I?” Brief confusion. He clearly doesn’t have a lot of experience here. “Oh, fuck, right. I’m a whole ass sword dude.”

That’s good! Terezi was a rapier, so the translation over shouldn’t be too difficult. A little more aggressive than the flighty, almost dance like form you kept before. That should be fun to play around with.

“Mind transforming then genius? We can’t practice if you aren’t ready, and I’ve got a dick load of homework waiting for me back at my dorm.”

“Calm your nips dude, I thought this was all about feeling shit out. I don’t rush shit, I go exactly when I’m supposed to go.”

“And when the fuck is that?”

“Could be now.”

“So why isn’t it.”

“I’m waiting.”

“For _what_.” You’re starting to get impatient. Is he always going to be this annoying?

“For that. Right there, the expression on your face. I dunno if I can work with someone so easy to fuck with. That’s not good for battle sense man. Patience is key as fuck. Like, if someone had a door with a million locks on it, and there was a key ring with a million little fuckers on it, you wouldn’t need any of ‘em because you know the homeowner was coming back in five minutes and would just let you the fuck in. You get what I mean?”

You grit your teeth and feel the dent between your eyebrows deepen. The first impression has officially been revoked. He’s annoying. “Yeah, I fucking get it. Your point was reached, now can we get to the point of this practice already? I’m supposed to be helping your sorry ass figure this shit out.”

“Yeah yeah alright. Just don’t go sobbing to the faculty if this shit doesn’t work out for you, ok?” He offers his hand out to you to grab, and you grab it a little harder than necessary. You glaring up at him hasn’t seemed to leave much of an effect, but then again, you can’t see half of his face. He sounds unfazed though.

His figure turns into light as it warps into the correct shape. He’s heavier than Terezi was, a broadsword that takes more effort to lift, and only has enough for one and a half hands on the handle. The work along the guard arcs into intricate feathers, the middle highlighted by some moving gears. The gear pattern etches along the middle of the sword before stopping a third of the way through, making the blade look a bit feather like. The pommel is a timepiece that flashes a dull red every five seconds. The weight feels good on your arm, and the handle fits smoothly in your palm.

A voice carries through the blade. _Are you gonna keep examining the merchandise all day, or are we gonna do some of that practicing shit you wanted so bad?_

It cuts right to the core of you, gaining a bit of his feeling as it reverberates into your soul. It’s weak, but the connection is there. That makes you dread this all the worse. You’re _compatible_.

You wrinkle your nose in distaste and spin the sword in your hand to get used to the weight. After a moment, you lift your arm up towards the booth and give a thumbs up to Mr. Nitram, who nods and starts up a basic program for you both. Dave says something and you keenly ignore it. A screen at the far end of the arena lights up in its countdown, and you crouch into the stance you took with Terezi. Your arm extends farther and higher than you’re used to, since this blade demands more space. Dave tries again, and this time you bother to pay attention. _Are you listening?_ _Don’t touch the pommel, I’ve got some shit to explain about it._

You’ve read about swords. You don’t need this jackass to weapon’splain pommels to you. Besides, how special does he think he is that it requires additional training. The timer drops to zero and some mechanized (and pretty adorable) skeleton bots come popping out of the ground. They move erratically and magnetize back into place, so as long as you’re willing to go far, they will go too.

You rush in, letting the weight of the blade help push you forward. You slice the head off of one of the bots with a delay over your usual time. That makes sense, he is heavier. _Fucking hell, if I knew you were this stubborn I would’ve slept in today. Waste of a Saturday dude._

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” You run past another bot, leaping behind it to slash through its arm. The thrum of energy from Dave gets more obstinate, and the blade becomes heavier. _I dunno, do you ever listen to people who are trying to give you some basic fucking advice?_

The heavier weight makes your arm tug unpleasantly. Terezi was never this heavy, even when she was mad at you. You slow down and slice through a torso segment on one of the robots with a huff. “Fine. Lecture me.”

_Cool, glad to see you’re willing to listen. Eventually._ The sword becomes lighter. Are you being trained? You didn’t know you could get angrier but apparently Dave has found another way to patronize you. Dave seems to feel your irritation, and laughs. _Damn, I’ve never seen someone get so worked up over Pavlovian conditioning. Well get your knickers outta that twist. We’ve got work to do. First off man, You’ve gotta stop being so floaty, your stance is way too high. You’re gonna pop your damn shoulder if you keep pretending I’m a fuckin’ twig dude._

You resent the fuck out of him, but he might be right. You’re used to having less to work with, used to dipping and dodging. This requires more force, more focus, more grounded technique. You roll your eyes and get lower. You use more of your back the next time you slash through a robot. You hear clapping.

_I mean that’s a fuckin’ start. Look at you, getting learned’n shit. Tight as hell._

“It’s muscle memory. Eat an entire anus.”

_Oh man, I thought weapon meister shit was supposed to be like, a no no? Sorry man I can’t afford to get kicked out just because you wanted me to get your rocks off._

“It’s not “a no no”, it’s just not recommended.” You snap back. “But that shit doesn’t matter, because it’ll be a cold day in hell when I partner with you.”

_Lucky you, winter’s coming._

You continue slicing through robots, getting more and more comfortable and ignoring more of Dave’s mumbles and quips. He really, really doesn’t shut up. It’s enough to make you want to tear your hair out. Instead, you just slice through robots and pretend they’re him. Dave seems to press more the angrier you get. He’s borderline babbling. He sounds like he’s saying nothing just to fill the angry void. It becomes background noise. Almost mind numbing. It’s hard to remember why you’re mad when the space between thoughts is filled with Dave’s nothings.

You stop after fighting for about 30 minutes, and by that time, Dave is nearly weightless in your hand. You hate to say it, but you two are incredibly compatible. Your wavelengths run at a similar frequency. You lift the sword and watch it shift back into Dave. Instead of letting go of your hand, he holds it tight. “Man. I’ve gone through a lot of meisters this week. You’ve clearly got some fuckin’ issues but at least you can keep your shit straight.”

“And what’s that supposed to insinuate? You don’t actually want to be partners, right?”

“I’d take some zen bitch over your prickly ass any day, but I’ll take what I can get this late in the game. Aren’t you running out of options too? What meister is weaponless this far into the year anyway.”

“None of your fucking business, that’s who.” You tug your hand out of his with a lot of resistance. He’s clearly as strong, if not stronger than you. You rub the palm of your reclaimed hand between your thumb and forefinger, massaging it. He looks put off.

Having a temporary partnership until Terezi comes back was the goal, wasn’t it? So being partners with someone you hate should be fine. An easy let go when your real partner comes to her senses, really. You drop your hand and look him in the eyes with a suitable amount of ire. “Fine. We’ll try it. If it doesn’t work out, remember you’re the one who wanted this shit in the first place.”

“Hell yeah man, I can take the blame if you can’t handle it. You’re gonna be holding me up a lot, I might as well hold up the fuckin’... basis of this partnership? Nah that sounds dumb. Whatever, we’ll figure it out.” He waves a hand dismissively. “You want me to tell Mr.Nitram for both of us or nah.”

“Knock yourself out. I wasn’t kidding about needing to do homework.”

“Right right. Oh, yeah, we should exchange numbers right? I gotta talk to you about the whole dorm thing and like. Getting notes n’shit.”

You hold out your hand for his phone, which he promptly stares at dumbly before realizing what you’re asking for. You add yourself in, and are met with a similar position, only his face is significantly less grumpy than yours. You hand him your phone and watch him do the same. He then salutes you and walks off towards the booth as the robots power down. You walk away.

He put himself in your phone as “ur dream cum tru”.


	2. An Unsound Mind- Get Your Foot Out of Your Mouth?

It’s been two days since you met Dave, and since then your life has known no peace. Dave texted you as soon as you left the school building, messaging you almost immediately after you sent your response, on and on, until he convinced you to give him your notes, to let him stay at your apartment, and to walk with him to class on Monday. He’s _annoying_ , and persistent, and apparently, punctual.

He moved into Terezi’s old room with his singular backpack and no questions about who used to be there. It almost feels sacrilegious to let someone sleep in her bed, especially when it’s Dave. But she’s not here anymore. She moved out to stay with Vriska, like she couldn’t get out fast enough. Now Dave gets to sleep there. It’s been two and a half weeks since she left, but it feels like a year. You still haven’t called her.

You see her in class today, though. You two always sat next to Vriska and Tavros in class, but now that Tavros is in the infirmary, Terezi sits in his old spot, with Dave covering the gap between you and Vriska. The visual metaphor of Dave and Vriska between you and Terezi is not lost on you in the slightest, though it’s easier to focus in class without Terezi threatening to lick your paper. You might be able to get good notes the first time, at this rate. Dave is also fairly attentive. He writes his own notes and keeps up, though his foot is tapping a steady beat through the whole class, and his notes are interspersed with doodles.

Vriska and Terezi keep laughing while Mr. Harley’s back is turned. Usually you wouldn’t mind, but you can’t help but feel angry. They have inside jokes now too? What’s so funny about a lesson on witch trials? Vriska’s haughty laugh makes your skin crawl, and the staccato trill in Terezis that usually makes your heart tug up through your throat only makes you feel like throwing up. It feels you’re vomiting when you tell them to shut the fuck up.

The rest of the class makes a cliche Ooo’ing noise that would’ve made your eyes roll if you weren’t glaring at the girls so hard. Dave looks caught off guard, facing you and looking about as concerned as he can while still wearing those obnoxious shades of his. Terezi looks put off. She doesn’t see an issue. Vriska has never been caught off guard once, and this is no exception. She can’t help looking smug, like she knows why you’ve yelled and was doing it to spite you specifically. You hate this. You hate her. Terezi deserves better and she doesn’t even know-

“Mr. Vantas. Thank you for interrupting on my behalf but I dare say I can fight my own battles. I’ll be seeing you after class.” Mr. Harley interrupts. His white mustache twitches with some sense of amusement and you can’t be fucked to care, because they’ve both started laughing again. He turns back to the board. “All _three_ of you.”

That got them to stop. You can feel Terezi glaring at you from her seat, but the radiating smugness from Vriska keeps you from looking at them again. Vriska’s been in trouble before, she doesn’t care. Terezi’s used to getting away with things though. No wonder she’s mad at you.

Class goes on agonizingly long before the bell cuts through the professors discussion on why burning at the stake usually fails to kill witches. Dave jumps at the noise. Rose and Kanaya leave as soon as the bell goes off with the rest of the class trickling out behind them.

The three of you end up walking to the front of the class and waiting for the rest of the group to go. Dave is still in his seat like he’s waiting for dismissal. Does he know what a bell is? Great, another thing you have to explain to him. Mr. Harley clears his throat and snaps your attention back to him. “I hope your new assignments aren’t making you all forget the rules.”

“Of course not, professor. Me and Terezi are just verbal learners. Talking helps us remember better.” Every word out of Vriska’s mouth sounds like it’s being forced through a bitch filter, elongating the vowels and enhancing the unlikability by 2000%.

“I guess screeching laughter does too?” You snap back before you can help it.

Vriska laughs like you’ve told a great joke. Terezi is too busy holding back some pretty obvious distress. She looks hurt. You don’t know if you feel good about putting that there. Terezi speaks up, resolving herself. “Yeah, Karkat, it does. You have a problem with our learning strategies?”

“If Mr.Vantas doesn’t, I certainly do. You can’t be giggling about like this. You might distract the other students! All learning is good, but this new strategy of yours is certainly too recent to be non-negotiable. Keep it down or I’ll be forced to separate you two.” Mr. Harley’s finger is fixated on twirling his mustache, a jovial action for a serious statement. He never sounds serious, either, and with his downward tone, he just sounds like he’s telling them they won’t make the nice list this year. “And I can’t say you were quite in line there, either, Karkat. But I’m very sure you know this. Don’t let me see you interrupting class again, hmm?”

You all respond with a droning “Yes professor,” though Vriska’s is a lot more flippant. You can feel Terezi glaring again as they walk out of the room. You don’t feel Dave standing behind you again, not until you turn to grab your bag and see him already standing there, offering it out to you. You jump.

“FUCK!” You clutch your hand to your chest over the little death symbol on your sweater. Mr.Harley tuts at the word and you roll your eyes. You mumble a thanks, take your bag, and skulk out of the room, Dave wandering behind you like a lost puppy.

As soon as you leave, you regret it. Down the hall, your brother and his meister are browsing through the assignment board. Official sanctions for kishin egg and witch capture are available for EAT (Especially Advanced Talent) students to browse through. The two of them are in and out of class enough for it to get obnoxious, but recently, they’ve been gone for so long you almost forgot they attended school still. They’re coming up on their 99th kishin egg, with their first witch assignment nearly on the way, and the rest of the class is in minor veneration for their accomplishment. You and Terezi were at about 53 before she flaked on you. You try not to be bitter about it.

You just don’t want to be around while Kankri and Cronus are being fawned over by some of your classmates. Kankri is known to be pretty annoying, and Cronus is the only one egotistical enough to tolerate him. They’re a good team that are even better when they aren’t bothering anyone else.

Cronus sees you over the crowd and waves, like you two are supposed to be friends, but you ignore him. John also pipes up to you, mentioning your brother being back, like that was supposed to be a good thing. You avoid looking at him too.

Dave seems interested, though. He looks over the crowd at the short form of your brother with slight awe before looking back at you, and hurrying to close the gap you’ve made between you two while Dave was looking. You’re about halfway down the hall before a flash of white, holy light appears behind you. The class Ahh’s, just as stereotypically as before. Great, Cronus and Kankri are showing off again. You don’t need to see Kankri’s holy sickle form again anytime soon. Dave is still staring at them as he follows behind you, walking backwards to take it in.

“Is that really your brother?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you glad you wear shades?”

“I guess. Why can’t you do that?”

“Wow, that was fucking blunt. Fuck you, that’s why.”

“Damn, not that I’m opposed or anything but it doesn’t really answer the question.”

“Take a few seconds to think for once. Maybe, I don’t feel like answering your shitty question. Maybe, I don’t have an answer. Maybe, you should keep your fucking nose out of other peoples business.” You’re seething. Dave has flipped around as he walked so you’re now facing the same way, using his long legs to keep up with you as you storm down the hall.

“Aite, answer accepted. I’m not gonna force it out if you’re gonna go ballistic when I ask about it. Just wondering.” He shrugs, but you can feel the anxiety coming off of him. He really doesn’t know how to read the room, huh. You let out a huff of tense air before trying to shake off the irritation. You’ve been told your tendency to get angry first and listen later is off putting. You told that person to fuck off, but you know it’s at least a little true.

“Whatever. It’s fine. Just don’t do it again and I won’t yell at you again.”

“Haha, I fuckin’ doubt it, but sure dude. Cross my heart.” He eases up a little. He’s… really vulnerable to criticism. His words don’t match his actions, not all the way. You need to be more careful with him. It doesn’t mean he’s off the hook for asking something that insensitive, though.

“Great. Then you’re making dinner tonight to make up for your stupid question.”

“Can I just buy something? I can’t cook shit.”

You look up at him, a little baffled, a little judgy, but you just scoff and look away again. “Yeah, sure. It’s coming out of your allowance though.”

“Fuck yeah. What else is there to buy with that shit anyway?”

“Clothes, shit for your room, school supplies, books, DVD’s. Fucking, everything under the sun.” You’re using your hands to talk again.

“Oh, damn. Right. Cool yeah, also that I guess.”

“Are you _planning_ on getting anything else with your money?”

“I mean. Now I am. I just figured you had to ask permission or whatever?”

“Fuck, of course not. You get that money for the week, you use it for whatever you need it for, and then it just keeps coming until we make you a death scythe and you get a legitimate paying job. Did you read the handbook?”

“Uh. Skimmed it. I didn’t actually think that far ahead.”

“Well that’s the goal, Dave. You get to work for Death himself, and I get to become an elite meister. Both of us protect the world from witches and murderers, and everything in between, and live the rest of our lives entrapped in a global conflict.” You probably know too much about this whole thing. You’ve been raised in death city your whole life, both of your parents called to action over your childhood. You barely see your mom, and your dad is usually busy as Death’s personal scythe. Your brother takes a lot of pride in this heritage, working with Death’s first born out of sheer obligation. You’ve just never had another option outside of working for the DWMA.

“That. Sounds like a lot.”

“It is.”

“So, your brother’s doing this all too, right? Is this like, a family business?”

“Yeah. It is. You’re bordering on another shitty question.”

“Aite, fine. Good question then. What do you want for dinner?”

You two keep talking as you exit the building. You pass by Eridan and Sollux. Eridan looks shocked, but not at you. Sollux does see you, smacks Eridan in the shoulder, and mumbles something to him. Eridan straightens himself up and waves at you. As soon as he’s done, he doesn’t take his eyes off of Dave.

You wonder what the fuck that was supposed to be until you get back to the apartment. Almost like he was waiting for you to be alone, you get into your room and your phone vibrates. Sollux is texting you.

TA: ii’m not allowed to talk to you about thii2 2o 2hut the fuck up and lii2ten.  
TA: you can’t tru2t the new kiid.


	3. A Fight in the Courtyard - Do We Pass Judgement?

You swear to Death, if Sollux doesn’t answer his phone soon, you’re going to break it the next time you see it. You’ve never been so paranoid in your life and it’s all his fault. Telling you you shouldn’t trust your partner and then fucking off into the void for _nearly a week_? What kind of friend does that! Sollux fucking Captor, apparently. Trying not to let it get to you has failed on all fronts. Every single one. If there was one left unfailed, you would hunt it down and criticise it until it was so all consumingly aware of its downfall that it never dared to try failing again. It doesn’t help that Dave is apparently magnetized to you, knocking at your door every morning and bothering you late into the night. It takes everything in you not to start throwing around accusations. You don’t want to take Sollux’s word as fact until you’re absolutely positive it has some ground. He has been known to fuck with you after all. It’s what he does. He does that, the fucking imp.

You’ve been doing some recon on your own, trying to ask cautious questions about where he’s from, why he decided to transfer. Things like that. He deflects, which isn’t good, but also not damning. It ties your brain up in knots.

Not until you have more facts. That’s what you tell yourself.

When Terezi confronts Dave in the courtyard Friday morning, you can’t help but stand back and listen.

“There’s something wrong with you. The smell is coming off of you in waves, like bitter contempt and hesitation.”

“What the fuck do you mean, can you can smell my “inner turmoil” or something?” He uses quotation marks with his fingers. He’s leaned back as Terezi leans forward, invading his space and looking down at his chest. You know what she’s doing.

“I can see your soul, Strider, and it’s absolutely quaking. What do you have to fear hmm? You own classmates? The school itself? Transfers are highly unusual you know, and it’s a rare exception someone so unaware of basic societal facts is let through.” Her hand is splayed over his chest like she’s waiting to hear a heartbeat, but you know she’s using it to feel his souls reverberation. You wouldn’t doubt it’s shaking. Yours definitely is.

“Ok, ok, you know assumptions make an ass out of you n’me, right? Well. More you right now, but you get the drift right? You’re smart. So step the fuck off before we have a problem.” He smacks her hand down and she glares up at his face, despite not being able to see it. He stops leaning back to match her aggressive stance. This, isn’t like him. He’s never been so obviously angry at anything you’ve said, and you’ve said some pretty harsh things over the past week. In the background, you can see Rose talk to Kanaya and Kanaya running into the school. She’s probably grabbing a teacher. You also see Vriska, cracking her knuckles in preparation.

“We already have a problem, and his name starts with D, and ends with -ead meat.” Vriska cuts in, and reaches her hand out to Terezi, who forms into a weapon almost instantaneously. It’s faster than when you wielded her.

Does Terezi have a point? She’s always been more aware of these things than you, ever the investigator, and she made some good points. Dave is backing up and holding out his hand, like he’s waiting for something to appear in it.

Your hand. He’s waiting for your hand. You can’t fight Vriska, not with Terezi right there, not when you and Dave have barely practiced. Not when you can’t trust him.

Before you can think to grab it, Rose comes from behind and takes Daves hand, and he forms without an issue. The teacher finally arrives outside with Kanaya, who seems worried, and you can’t move. Before you can think to, the girls are clashing, swords in hand as they perform their dance. You’re too close. They slash into another clang of metal, and you find yourself stumbling back. You’re stunned, you can’t move. You try to crawl farther, and you’re stuck. Immobilized by uncertainty.

The fight nearly crawls up the building as each pair attempt to find high ground to disarm the other. One hit lands so hard a chunk of the building falls off, thankfully away from the students who have gathered to watch.

Kanaya finally approaches you and crouches to your level. She looks on at the fight with concern, and a stern grip on your shoulders that tells you she understands, but isn’t pleased.

The two pairs land back on the ground, Vriska creating a sizable crater while Rose rolls to cushion the blow. Vriska takes the opportunity to strike true, and Dave, clearly panicking on Roses behalf, changes out of his form and curls his body over her, taking the foil to the side of his back, clear through the ribs. In his hand is a sword exactly like his own form, only shimmering. That shouldn’t be possible, but it’s happening. He whirls around with a slight wince to try and get the upper hand, but Vriska catches it in the guard of Terezis foil, and the teacher calls out to stop the battle. It’s Mrs. Pyrope, Terezis mom.

Kanaya stands up to try and help, lifting you up as she does before running in their direction. You’re still stuck, standing there. Terezi drops her form as her mother begins chastising her and Vriska. Duels are allowed on the schools property as long as there’s a teacher watching, and as long as no weapons draw blood. Dave is holding his side as Mrs. Pyrope helps him up, and Rose takes the rest of the weight, glaring at Terezi and Vriska before glaring at you.

You fucked up. You fucked up big time. Dave would take a sword to the back for a total fucking stranger, and you just stood there like an idiot. Kanaya takes the other side of Dave from Mrs. Pyrope as the two of them safely rush into the school. You can’t let yourself be inactive anymore.

You run to catch up with them, though you say nothing. Terezi and Vriska are still in the courtyard being chewed out.

“Dave, you’re going to be alright. We’re taking you straight to the nurses office, and she’s seen much worse than this. Hasn’t she Kanaya?”

“Yes, yes of course. You’re not bleeding nearly as much as you should be, so you must have good clotting.” Good clotting. Very comforting. You stand with your hands up like you’re waiting for something to grab, someway to help, dipping this way and that like it might help transport Dave faster.

“Karkat if you’re so insistent on helping, go run to the nurse and stop pretending to play goaltender.” Rose looks over her shoulder at you and you go pale. She’s not happy. You nod and run ahead. You barely hear Dave’s bleary “haha, I dunno fuck about sports” before you get out of earshot.

You get to the nurse long before them, slamming open the door and telling her exactly what happened in a stream of garbled consciousness. Busy tending to Tavros, she waves her hand to come over to her, and you do, anxiety written all over your face.

“Try to be conch-cise, Karkat, I can’t help if I don’t know wharfs wrong! Who got stabbed exactly?” Tavros tries to hide his chuckles at the puns and fails. Nurse Feferi’s usual blinding grin is toned down to a casual “I’m here for you but can’t stop being positive” smile. You take a breath and tell her what happened, only slower, and with less self depreciation.

She nods, quickly finishes with Tavros’s leg wraps, and moves to the cabinet to grab supplies for stitches. She instructs you to wait in the corner, which you do. You can’t stop fucking with the bottom of your sweater.

The girls finally arrive with Dave, who’s now proving how well he can rap “The Real Slim Shady” for both of them (surprisingly well given the circumstances, and the slight slurring.) Feferi directs them to the other bed and they quickly sit him down, helping to remove Dave’s coat and shirt.

What you don’t expect are the layers and layers of scar tissue underneath, almost on every surface of his torso, with uneven strips down his arms. He looks like he’s been taken apart and put back together several times, with gratuity. You can’t help but look a little horrified, and so does he. Clearly it hadn’t gotten into his head yet that removing his shirt was part of the process here. Rose and Kanaya give each other concerned looks.

Feferi acts like she doesn’t notice, and maybe she doesn’t care, but she goes right into telling him he’ll be ok, and walking him through the process of getting the stitches done. Dave holds his hand out, like he’s waiting for something to fill it, and this time you take the initiative. He clings, and your fingers feel like they’re about to fall off, but you don’t pull away. You have shit to make up for. Kanaya looks relieved, but Rose is glaring like she still has some lecture left in her. She can wait. Your attention is taken up by the throbbing pain in your hand, and the panicking boy sitting next to you. The stitches take a few minutes on either side, thankfully nothing lethal, but Feferi asks to keep him overnight. Dave has no complaints and quickly lays down. He relieves your hand and you nearly cry with joy at the circulation that shoots back into it. He is definitely stronger than you.

“Dave, I need to take Karkat outside. Is that alright with you?” Rose asks, polite but clearly authoritative about it. Dave waves an arm at her as a command to go and you almost wish he would have begged you to stay. Rose takes your wrist and walks you outside, a little down the hall.

“What is your issue exactly, Karkat. Are you still so infatuated with Terezi that the sight of her harassing your new partner isn’t enough to call you to action? Do you feel some sort of vindication in knowing you aren’t the only one she’s prepared to toy with anymore? God forbid, do you really miss her so much that you’re willing to have your only contact with each other be conflict ridden? You did call her out in class, something you’ve never done even though the rest of us would have been glad for it. Is this some new string of errant schoolboy conflictions you’re so prone to-”

“Shut up! Shut. Up. Shut your fucking mouth and stop making so many assumptions about me and what I have going on. My whole world isn’t consumed with Terezi, Rose. Maybe, Terezi was making some good points and I-”

“Good points? How good could they possibly-”

“Yes Rose! Good points! How often do we get transfer students, especially this late in the year? When he’s this fucking close to being to old for highschool anyway? He would be coming from a normal fucking highschool, and clearly he’s never been to one of those in his life. Have you seen the way he acts?”

“In fact I have. He _acts_ like he needs help. And I _thought_ you were the one giving it to him.” Rose has never sounded more disappointed. You feel that guilt clawing back in.

“Well. Maybe I was told he wasn’t worth helping.” You look down.

“Maybe you should start making your own decisions, instead of letting others make them for you.” Rose yanks your chin back up and stares you in the eyes. She’s being dead serious, and her eyes aren’t forgiving. “Look me in the eye and tell me he’s not half as stubborn and loyal as you.”

“I mean-”

“No, Karkat. Admit it.”

“Fine! He’s a good person and I fucked up Today. I fucked up really bad and he probably hates me, and Terezi probably thinks I’m a coward-”

“Terezi is my friend, but honestly? Right now she can shove her hands in a hornet’s nest for all I fucking care about her opinion.” Again, totally serious. You were starting to cry before she cut you off. “You’re a good person, Karkat. Now go apologize to him.”

“Why do you care so much?”

She stops, letting go of your chin. “Because people who come from bad places deserve a second chance.”

You let that sit in the air for a few minutes before Rose brushes past you to get back to the infirmary. You follow after her after giving her some room. You scub off your tears with the back of your sweater. When you finally get into the room, Dave is thanking Rose and Kanaya, with the two of them starting to head out. Class is about to start, after all. You walk into the room before they can leave. Kanaya whispers that you can borrow her notes for Today, then she exits with Rose. It leaves you in the room with Feferi, Tavros, and Dave. This is going to be awkward.

You take the seat next to his bed and start playing with the edge of your sweater again. How do you even start an apology like this. Sorry I was a bad partner? Sorry my crush almost murdered you? He breaks the silence.

“If you’re gonna apologize, don’t man. I freeze up all the time too.” You try to choke down your guilt again and fail. He’s being way too nice.

“I never freeze. That was me fucking up and you taking the fall for it, and I’m sorry.” Feferi closes the curtain for Dave’s bed, and though it doesn’t block out the sound, you do appreciate the privacy. Dave sits up a little in the bed, wincing. You hold out your arms in case of… well in case of anything. You’re pretty sure he wouldn’t fall over. He laughs.

“Dude, it’s fine. You’ve been nice to me all week. Who the fuck just lets a total stranger stay at their apartment? You apparently. Plus you’ve been telling me how everything works, and you tried to help as soon as you got through your funk, so. I dunno man, I don’t mind it too much. I could’ve handled it if Rose didn’t step in.” He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck with his good side.

“Right. You, summoned yourself?”

“Yeah. It’s um. It’s like a learned skill. I got really good at it.”

“Oh. Could you teach that to the other students?”

“It’s pretty dangerous, and, hard? So, no.”

“Oh.” There goes that plan. You felt a little hopeful for… anything to come out of that, but it’s ok. “Are you hurting a lot?”

“Nah, hello nurse over there gave me a _lot_ of pain killers. She amped up the dosage after seeing what was under the hood.” The scars, right. You nod. “Should kick in completely in a bit, and knock me the fuck out.”

“That’s good! Sleep is good for healing, and shit.” Your sweater is starting to wear thin at the bottom cuff. Do you really rub the bottom of it that often?

“Hey, so. I told you something about me. Can I get something back?” He’s forward about things, like always, but clearly he’s interested. You sigh.

“Fine. What do you want to know.”

“Why you’re so mad at your brother?” Again, forward. If he didn’t just get stabbed, you might storm out of here. It’s fine.

“He’s the successor to my dad’s legacy, and no one will let me forget it. A long line of holy weapons that continue with him, and ends with me.” You put your feet up on his bed while crossing your arms. This is not your favorite topic.

“Oh. That sounds impressive.”

“Yeah. It stops sounding impressive when that’s the only thing you ever hear.”

“I mean, tough standards?”

“Mhm.”

“No wonder you’re so good at shit.”

That catches you off guard. You know you’re pretty good in class, and that you used to be in the top before Terezi ditched you, but rarely has that statement come without some kind of statement about how your brother was doing. You keep yourself from crying again right there. “I’m okay. I could be doing better.”

“I guess. I dunno man. I get where you come from with the whole, not living up thing. Sometimes you can do shit over and over again and never do better, even though you’re being told to. Like, you’re being shoved in a record player, right? But the record is scratched. No matter how many times you play it, the scratch is still gonna be there. And you can either take the record for what it is, or stop expecting it to do something different and put it away. Stop asking it to do it if you don’t like the standard. Y’know?”

It takes a lot for you not to give him a hug, or something, because you don’t know if he’s that kind of guy, but you do put your feet down and scoot the chair closer. You nod.

“Well, fuck your brother then dude. Him and that guy from grease. Neither of them are cool enough to hang out with us.” You laugh. Who the fuck uses the word cool anymore. He’s smiling though. Miraculously, he still has his shades on through all of this.

“Right. They can’t join. They suck ass, and ass suckers can’t be in the club.”

“Does this club have jackets?”

“Hell yeah it does.”

“Hey, uh. Guys? Can I join?” You forgot Tavros was in here, fuck. You stand up to go open the curtain for him.

“Of course man, I dunno who you are but anyone who’s cool enough to break both his legs is definitely allowed in.” Dave’s still grinning, looking at Tavros who’s sitting in his bed next to Dave. You go to sit back down before Feferi peaks through the other side of the curtain.

“Can I join!”

“Fuck it, sure. The whole infirmary is a goddamn club room now.” You grumble out. Dave’s having a good time, so that’s generally good, even if they ruined the moment. And they heard your insecurities. It’s fine, you promise. The two of them cheer from across the room.

“So, how did he get. You know…” Tavros makes a stabbing motion with his hand.

“Well Vriska and Terezi wanted to try making kabobs out of Dave today, Nitram.” You cross your arms and lean them onto the bed next to Dave’s leg.

“Oh. Vriska has a new partner already?”

“Yeah. We both got ditched dude.”

“I guess… it explains why she hasn’t visited me yet.”

“She hasn’t _what?_ ”

“I mean I get it, she’s really busy being, important. And figuring herself out, but. It would’ve been nice if, she visited after she got out too.”

You’re glaring at nothing in particular. Vriska is a particular brand of shitty that only comes around once in a generation. Does she have no sense of moral integrity? Tavros can see you’re getting mad.

“Oh, no, no it’s ok. She hasn’t seen me but um. Gamzee has? You know, from the NOT class.” You do know Gamzee from the NOT (Normally Overcome Target) class. Lots of people do. He sells weed behind the main staircase and makes bad art out of his mashed potatoes at lunch. Not to mention the facepaint. “He’s really nice, and he heard what happened, and, he’s been checking up on me so, really it’s ok. And Feferi’s here, and she’s really nice too, so…”

“It’s not okay Tavros. I’m glad you’re making friends but Vriska needs to, I don’t know, apologize? Or something?? For replacing you and not even coming up here to tell you. It’s shitty.”

“I guess. Vriska does some pretty horrible things, sometimes, so. I think I’m just, putting it into perspective?”

You put your head into your forearms and groan, now resting your head next to Dave’s leg. Tavros has been with Vriska too long to hear anymore criticism about her. It’s fine. You’ll try again later. Dave starts patting your head in an attempt to comfort you that mostly works, though he’s clearly pretty hesitant about it.

It’s fine. It’s a nice gesture. You let him do it until his hand stills in your hair, and his heavy breathing, accompanied by Feferi flipping through pages, is the only thing you can hear. You eventually pass out as well.


	4. Into the Lion’s Den - Can You Afford to Fail?

When Eridan dragged you on this trip, he promised two days at most. What a lying piece of shit. He’s always manipulating you like this, telling you one thing to get you out of the house when he knows you have important shit to do. Namely, not fucking being here, in the middle of the woods, with no cell reception. You have a bad feeling about today, and you’re sure it’s Eridan’s fault.

Your name is Sollux Captor and you regret choosing your meister.

He seemed nice enough when he broke in through your window that first night, standing ominously with his dumb cape flapping against the open air behind him, drenched in shadow like some kind of Batman knock-off. You’d had weirder first impressions. It came with the job you had at the time. Hackers can’t be choosers, especially at the beginning of their careers, so you’d been around some fucking nutjobs in your day.

He approached you like he was about to create a crime scene, strutting with militaristic precision, when his hand shot out, coated with rings until you could no longer see skin on his fingers. You were half tempted to steal some of them just to see if he noticed. You got the feeling he had more at home.

“Eridan Ampora, Death’s heir apparent, an’ your future employer.” That’s presumptuous. You’d been a hacker for what, six years at that point? You didn’t _have_ _to_ deal with weirdos anymore.

“Sorry shithead, I don’t work with home invaders. Not unless they’re paying to break into someone else’s place.” You’re still leaned back into your beanbag. You had been in a nice corner of your apartment you used to use for console gaming. No way that you would keep any of your important computer shit near an exposed window.

He laughed, and it sounded down right tyrannical. This guy would play a great disney villain. “I wouldn’t hire you for somethin’ quite so myopic. In fact, I don’t care about your technical skills in the slightest.”  

That’s a new one. What, did he want to hire you out for your body? That’s a new branch of nope you never thought you’d hit. Damn if you weren’t falling down that tree though, smacking all those nope branches on the way down. This guy was creepy.

“If you don’t want me to hack for you, I’ve got nothing for you. You can get out of my fucking apartment though.” You crackled some of your souls electric energy in your hands, a special ability you’ve been able to harness over the years. Not deadly, but it feels worse than a taser.

“You should wait before kickin’ me out, Captor. I know a lot about you. Things you wouldn’t want seein’ the light of day.” He’d rescinded his hand, leaning against the wall next to you and examining his nail beds.

“I’m not gonna wait a fuck of a lot longer before frying your greasy ass to a crisp, so get to your point.”

“I want you as my weapon.”

You take pause at that. You had barely ever used your weapon form at that point, and you sure as shit hadn’t been using it frequently enough to be trailed for it. How far back did he look into your life? “Ha, jokes on you, that’s the one thing I suck nards at. Hop back through the window and go waste some other jackass’s time.”

“I sincerely doubt that. Look. Most guns fire bullets. I don’t want bullets. I want _that_.” He pointed to the crackling energy in your hand. “Of course, I have the ability to force my soul through any vessel in the form of bullets, but how blasé is it to show up to battle with a basic ass gun? What sort of impression does that leave? What fear does that strike? None, unless they have some sort of gunphobia, but then again we wouldn’t be hunting common humans, would we.”

“Would we?”

“We wouldn’t. The things we hunt would be much further up your alley than you’d anticipate, Captor.”

You dropped your hand and leaned into your chair. You had to think for a moment. This guy clearly got what he wanted, and hadn’t heard “no” a day in his life. You opened your mouth to respond before you got cut off.

“You would be paid a hefty salary for every moment you spend with me on the job, as well as getting a room at death’s palace and your basic necessities tended to. Death’s weapons are well cared for, even if they haven’t been properly prepared.”

“You’re not Death yet, assface.”

“Only a matter of time.”

“Yeah, eons. Death predates humanity, he’s going to live past it.”

“In a different form. Are we going to babble on about this longer or do I have my yes yet.” He flicked some dirt out from under his nail and looked down at you, chin still raised in his proper posture.

You made up your mind, standing up out of the beanbag and heading to the window. You gestured towards it. If you’re going to take someone’s money, it’s going to be this asshole’s. Besides, you don’t need your life story leaked to the authorities. “No, you don’t. You never will. If I come with you, it’s going to be because I think you’re a prick who needs to be taken down a few thousand notches. It’s going to be because you need to learn to keep your mouth shut, and because your authority needs a fuck of a lot more questioning. If I’m doing this it’s because you don’t deserve the money you have, and I’m going to siphon that shit like a vortex. Now get the fuck out of my apartment before I zap you into my neighbor's living room.”

“So it’s a definite yes.”

“Promise to move my shit out of this place and you’ll get a stiff maybe.”

“Fantastic. I’ll be back tomorrow at eight o’clock.” He used his hip to bounce off of the wall and approached the window again, his cloak picking up wind you now know wasn’t really there.

“Make that noon or I’m not coming.”

“Nine it is then.” And he jumped out the window.

As far as first meetings go, that should’ve been the most vibrant red flag you’ve ever seen. Too bad you’re colorblind. You should’ve known someone who wakes up that early would love hikes through nature with authority figures.

Technically you were on a mission, though they wouldn’t tell you what for. It’s a side effect of never actually going to DWMA like every other weapon you know, you have a zero star rating, which means you’re on a strictly need to know basis. Students at least have a one star and can be caught up on the basics. Eridan, the lucky bastard, is Death’s son, which means he has three star privileges despite not being enrolled in the school either. He certainly knows the teachers well enough to be a student. You guess it’s a byproduct of being raised near the school.

You’ve been trailing behind with all this head drama and Eridan turns around to chastise you for it. He’s always on your case, trying to get you to look more presentable, or to be faster, or to care about any of the people he introduces you to. You can’t. You simply cannot, because all of that requires you giving a shit about the world he’s pulled you into, and you can’t be bothered.

Besides, you’re mad at him, remember? You don’t want to listen to what he has to say. Regardless of what you want, he jogs to where you are, leaving Harley and Nitram, and turns so he can walk beside you.

“If you’re gonna be this slow you might as well transform so I can carry you the rest’a the way.”

“As much as I hate the physical activity here, I’d rather be dead than be held by you for another three hours.”

“Fair point. Perish then.”

“Don’t fucking tempt me.”

“Not plannin’ on lettin’ you die anytime soon.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Why are you so forlorn in the first place, Captor? Are you depressed to be without wifi or is this just another mood swing.”

“It’s not about either this time. There’s no cell service-”

“Ah, pseudo-wifi, got it.”

“Shut up. I texted KK about the Dave thing before we left and he’s probably freaking out at me right now waiting for me to respond back.”

“How much did you tell him exactly?” Eridan is talking in hushed tones. The teachers might be listening, so you follow suit. You start heading up a hill.

“I told him to look out for anything shifty from him and not to go blabbing about it to anyone.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s bound to inspire rational thought from him.” He performs a very dramatic eye roll. “You should’ve left it alone until we’re allowed to talk about it. You don’t even know if they’re a permanent team yet.”

“No, but he deserves to know.”

“It’s not our place to talk about it. If we go gossipin’ about this to every person who brushes shoulders with the guy, soon the entire school will know we’ve been harboring a potential double agent.”

“Potential? Fuck, Eridan, how can he be raised by a monster like that and not harbor some sick fucking ideas about how the world works. Even if he isn’t working against us, there’s no way there won’t be consequences to him being there.” Your tone raised a lot there. You’re not good at self containment. Eridan glares.

“If there are consequences, then Dad will deal with it. It’s not our issue. Besides, you come from some pretty fucked up people, an’ I dare say you’re doin’ fine.”

“Yeah, but I had to be pried off with a crowbar. I’m not exactly the peak of mental stability, either.” You give Eridan the look. The one you give him when he’s over simplifying something to sound smarter.

He, of course, ignores it. “Just keep your nose to the ground, an’ let professionals handle it.”

The teachers ahead of you have reached the top of the hill. Mr. Harley holds his hand out for Mr. Nitram, and Dante shifts into a long spear in the older man’s hands. Eridan holds out his hand, and you smack it maybe a little harder than necessary before transforming into a rifle. You keep your sights off for now, if Eridan needs to snipe, he will no doubt let you know.

“Tallyho boys! We’ve got a witch to catch!”

“I will never understand why they send this man on stealth missions.” Eridan grumbles, and your warped voice drives through him like a dull current. _I know. He has the subtlety of an elephant._

It’s hard to explain what you see while you’re transformed. You would say you see through Eridan's eyes, only you don’t. You know what he sees, and you know what’s around you, but you don’t see any of it. You don’t have eyes. It’s more like you innately understand what’s around you.

Eridan finally gets next to Mr. Harley, who stands with Nitram stuck in the ground like he’s posing for war. His mustache twitches, and he senses the hunt. Below you is a witch’s hut that looks too modern for its own good. You thought you heard rushing water, and you know now that the sound is coming from the river flowing underneath the hut, passing through and flowing to a waterfall in the distance. The house thrums with light energy, literally giving off a glowing, nearly blinding light. Despite seeing it, you can’t feel anything within. You can barely comprehend the house itself. Even Eridan seems to be having difficulty. You know you’re in the right place, however. Mr. Harley’s “Hunter’s Instinct” allows him hunt down any target he has the scent of. You have avoided dog comparisons so far, you will remain strong until the end of this mission.

“Alright lads, be wary of traps. You never know what sort of trickery this witch might play on us.”

“We’ll be sure to be careful, Harley.” Eridan responds, just a touch more sarcastic than he means it to be. There’s a pang of remorse you wish you couldn’t feel from him. You know he’s been trying to be more personable recently. He’s failing, but he’s trying.

Harley nods, not picking up on the sarcasm in the slightest, and gestures for Eridan to stay here while Harley approaches around the back. He taps his ear and turns on the communicator, while Eridan turns his own on. Then, the two of you wait. Harley approaches slowly, then crosses the stream, until the light blocks him from your sight.

“Gents, sally forth. I dare say this witch must be the most vulnerable vagrant I’ve ever faced.”

Eridan snaps his fingers, and you manifest your scope. He lays flat on the hill to be less visible. Eridan lifts you to eye level and looks through the sights to check for suspicious movement. He jumps, and you know he’s seen a cheshire grin in the window. “Harley, don’t go any further. The witch has been sighted and my position is compromised.”

“Ridiculous, it’s opportune time for a sneak attack, don’t you think?”

“I do _not_ think. Don’t engage.”

Silence. What is the old man thinking? Is he braindead? How is he a professional? The radio goes dead for a moment, before the speaker crackles into use again.

“Hello boys. Didn’t’cha mommies ever teach’ya not to peep on pretty ladies?”

Eridan’s blood runs cold, colder than usual. You feel like you remember this voice from somewhere. When you were younger. You’re trapped trying to keep track of the past, sorting through it desperately. Her voice slips out of your memory as quickly as it entered. You can’t remember what it sounded like, and neither can Eridan.

“Well, I guess no one bothers teachin’ manners anymore. Courtesy is outta fashion these days. No cotillions, no balls, no nothin’. S’all right though, I can give ya’a few pointers.”

And just like that, Mr. Nitram, still a spear, goes sailing through the air, right next to Eridan’s left hand. There’s no space between the two, and a small line of blood begins to run down the surface of his skin. There’s blood absolutely coating the spear end of Dante’s body. You still can’t see her in the window. Dante hasn’t changed back. You don’t know where Mr. Harley is. Eridan’s eyes are wide.

“Always return what you borrow, boys. An’ if you can’t return things to the original owners, because they’re dead or somethin’, just give it to their next of kin. It’s like passin’ on a message, yeah? Or givin’ some advice.” You can hear her licking her lips. Your skin crawls, and you don’t know how, because you don’t even have skin right now. “Now go teach your friends some courtesy, or this blunderin’ old man won’t be the only one dyin’ alone in the woods tonight.”

You feel Eridan’s hesitance shoot through you like a bullet, but he resolves, quickly, like he always does, standing up and nabbing Mr. Nitram before running into the woods. If you were alone, you think you would’ve been too scared to move. Eridan has decided what’s important already. You remember why you’re still his partner.

Dante doesn’t change out of his weapon form until you’re already most of the way out of the woods, and you still haven’t bothered to shift out either. When he emerges, he’s panting. He’s exhausted. Apparently, he was stuck, unable to do anything. He saw everything that happened to Harley, and he’s sickened. You feel like if you changed back now, you would be sick too. This mission was doomed.

It takes you another few days to finally get back to the DWMA, and by then, it’s the end of the school day on Friday. A chunk of the school is missing, which almost makes Eridan pop a vein, but you can’t be fucked to care. You and Eridan have an appointment with Death and you have a few words for him. Most of them are interspersed with fuck, and you.

You and Eridan go all the way to the top of the school, into the decorative Death head that makes up a large portion of the buildings front face, and that holds Deaths office. You’ve been invited in, but as you approach, you hear a conversation between Death and Karkat’s dad. You and Eridan both lean into the door crack to snoop, in sync.

“-And I’m proud of my son for doing it, but don’t you think he’s too young? I didn’t become a Death Scythe until much later, and I know he wants the responsibility, but. Is he really ready to go on the field?”

“Kankri’s been training for this for years. I’m sure he can handle a reception job in the Eastern office.”

“But what if something happens? That sector is understaffed for a reason.”

“Yes, because it’s so boring everyone transfers out. Calm down Kephri. If anything, you should more worried about your youngest.”

“What do you mean?”

“He lost a significant amount of progress, switching partners like that. I’m tempted to make him take remedial classes. Same with that other pair, the one with Pyrope’s girl.”

“Karkat has incredible grades, Sir. With respect, a setback like that isn’t his fault.”

“But it _is_ his to overcome.”

“With an untested partner? You’re just being unfair now.”

“People in the NOT classes get on fine with just grades. We expect _results_ from our advanced class. This is why you aren’t a teacher.”

“Because I don’t like punishing students?”

“Discipline is important. You know this.”

“And punishing Karkat with that unvetted monster is fair to you?”

“Meet the child yourself and tell me I didn’t do what was right.”

“Setting Karkat up to fail is not right.”

“Now you’re just refusing to listen.”

Before you can think, you’re opening the door to the room, with Eridan stunned behind you. You storm under Death’s gates to approach the false open sky the room is held in. Before you even reach Death’s platform, you start mouthing off. “Where the fuck do you get off telling Karkat’s dad to stop being worried about him? That’s what good parents do, fucklord, and in case you didn’t notice, we don’t know fuck all about that goddamn abomination.”

“Ah, nice to see you two made it back okay.” Death turns to you, and even through his mask, you can see his flippancy towards you. You hate that.

Eridan is storming through the gates as well, a plume of shadow floating out of his hair and down the walk way as he does. He smacks you on the back of the head. “Yes father, in one piece. Unfortunately, we lost a good man.”

“You mentioned in your last call. That _is_ unfortunate. Not even a body left, hmm?” He starts floating off to his mirror. He dials in a number, and the back of Ru Pyrope’s head is seen from a drastic downward angle. “Pyrope, do you mind sending Jade Harley up here when you’ve got a minute. We have some news for her.”

Eridan’s face drops beside you, before hardening into something a little more harsh. You know what that means. He’s putting it all on himself, blaming himself for Harley’s death, and telling himself it won’t happen again. The phone call drops and Death turns back to you two.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this situation while you two were making your way back. This might’ve been prevented with a bit more preparation from everyone involved. This witch was shrouded in too much mystery to properly case, but that’s no excuse for accidents like this. I would be more comfortable sending you on missions in the future if you joined the EAT course, like your brother did.”

“Yes father.”

“What?? School was not a part of the fucking deal. This is a job, not a scholarship program!” You’re so goddamn mad. Eridan bumps you with his shoulder. You turn your head and glare at him. He looks unimpressed with his father’s verdict, and you thoroughly agree. School is boring, it’s always been boring, and you’ve never needed it. You dropped out for a reason. You’re a successful (albeit illegal) businessman. This is _ridiculous_. Eridan clearly thinks the same.

“I promise you both it will be worth it in the end. Now, if that’s the end of this, I would like to see you both in my office Monday morning first period. You’ll have remedial classes to catch up with the rest of your classmates.”

Eridan is seething silently beside you, and you’re not very goddamn pleased yourself. You tug Eridan’s arm as you start to stomp off. He follows without much hesitation.


	5. An Inquisitive Mind - Do You Regret or Keep Moving?

You have to keep going. Your gut is pulling you in a direction, one with evidence and purpose, and your gut has never lead you astray before. Neither has your nose, that crinkles with the smell of deceit. It’s wafting through the halls like a thick steam, and you can’t wait to see what must be sizzling below the surface. Somewhere beneath the marble floors of this school, there’s a pile of secrets waiting to be unlocked. You can’t let your guilty conscience keep you from the truth.

Your mother wouldn’t stop hounding you for your mistake in the courtyard this morning. No. Not a mistake, a miscalculation. You didn’t have enough evidence. Your mother was probably in on it. At the very least, your partner believes you.

Your name is Terezi Pyrope, and you _know_ the new kid is bad news.

You’re in the middle of an investigation now, actually. Vriska is holding you tight in her hand. It’s a reassuring embrace while her capable footwork leads you in what you know to be the right direction. Lord Death may not keep written files, but the rest of the staff will. You are about to go information hunting in your mother’s office.

You’re trying your best to shove aside the emotional part of your brain until you can reach the right conclusion. It doesn’t matter what Dave did. It doesn’t matter what you did to Dave. It doesn’t even matter that Rose couldn’t look at you in class all day. You know you’re right about this. The thought wavers in your mind, and you can practically feel your soul quaking with uncertainty. It’s been doing this all day.

Vriska squeezes your handle while her silent footsteps continue down the hall. Finally you arrive at the office. Vriska doesn’t bother with picking the lock, or checking the doorknob. She just breaks the decorative glass pane with the hilt of your blade and opens it from the inside. She’s so cool.

Stepping inside, you change back, landing on some glass with a wince as it crackles beneath your feet. The energy of the room pulses around you, and while you can’t see anything, navigating it all feels easy. Every object radiates with history, or personality, or stigma, and you can feel the way they tingle with that wavelength. You can see Vriska’s soul wandering behind what should be a desk, and you hear the papers she’s flipping through.

“So are you going to tell me what’s bumming you out, or what. You’ve been pouty as fuck since this morning.” Vriska’s soul doesn’t match her voice. Where her voice demands results, there’s a swell of insecurity on her soul. You’re endeared.

“No, stupid, I’ve just been thinking a lot.”

“Yeah, about that dumb blonde in the courtyard this morning. You can’t feel guilty about that shit, ‘Rezi. You made a decision, and you’re sticking to it. No one’s anything without their resolve.”

“I never feel guilty. I just think we could’ve timed the execution better, that’s all.”

“Riiiiiiiight. You needed witnesses. Now we’ve got the whole class questioning with us, and what’s better than avid supporters?” Vriska’s soul bobs up with a thrum of excitement, and the wrinkle of a paper pulled taught comes from behind the desk. “Ha! I think I found it. Come read this.”

“I can’t, remember?” You do go behind the desk with her though, giving the paper a good sniff. Your mother’s chilli pepper soul is definitely all over it, with hints of hot chocolate and cheap cologne playing on the edges. Mr. Nitram. You also smell a distinct void, an absence of scent where scent should be, and you know Lord Death has also touched it. A light whiff of purified water and vanilla let you know Karkat’s dad was at least around. More indistinguishable smells linger, but nothing substantial enough to make a sound guess.

“Right, sure. I guess I’ll just have to do a dramatic reading then.” She says this like it’s a chore for her, but you know she loves to milk attention. You just grin, resting your hip on the side of the desk.

“By all means Spinnerette, regale me.”

“Ahem.” She uses a bad impression of Nitrams voice,

 _“Ru,_  
_I know the last mission was real hard on you, but I can’t keep watchin’ you snap at kids like this, y’know? We’re all on edge. Knowing we got that kid in the hold makes sleep a bitch. I know you’ve been havin’ a hard time too. I talked to Lord Death about it before class today to see if we could do somethin’ about it and he asked me to start talkin’ him up. I’m gonna visit the puppetmaster's kid later. I wouldn’t mind some company, and I know it would put your mind to rest, gettin’ a more solid convo with him. Anyway. Drink more tea babe._  
_-Dante.”_

You crinkle your nose at the word babe, but your mind is going a mile a minute connecting the pieces. You remember hearing about the puppetmaster in the news. Some lunatic who would experiment on his victims, leaving them with layers of scar tissue, missing parts, and in some cases, without their souls. Dante must have written this note after talking to Lord Death about the kid, giving it to your mother after class. “Does it have a date on it?”

“No, but it’s between a few forms from about a month ago. How long has Dave been here?”

A month, at least. Dave has only been going to class with you for a week. You’re sure this talk lead to Dave being let out of the holding cells in the basement. You know they were looking for meisters to test with a new weapon around two weeks ago. Failure after failure, and you’re starting to see why. “Doesn’t matter. We know where he’s from. We have to warn Karkat before Dave has a chance to, I don’t know, do anything!”

“Not on your life.” You’ve been focusing too hard on the subject at hand to notice the subjugating presence at the door. The room feels tight and small at the same time, the objects seeming to shrink in the soul’s presence. You stand taller to make up the difference.

“Shut up, Eridan. You can’t stop us from exposing the truth.” Vriska is unaffected by intimidation, as usual. She stuffs the note into the pocket of her jacket.

“What truth? The only truth you’ve found is that there’s a murderer’s kid on the property. You’d be surprised how common that is around here. Or, maybe you wouldn’t.”

There’s a violent spike of anger from Vriska’s soul next to you. “Shut UP! Some of us aren’t affected by our surroundings. I crushed my past like the weak pebble in the road to it was. Nothing will stop me on my way to glory, not even a death god. So back up, or I’ll show you how easy it was for me to kill that bitch.”

“Your mother was a piece’a work, but clearly that’s a familial trait. Maybe it was the souls she’d devoured crowdin’ up her mental faculties. We can only guess with Kishin.” Eridan enters the room. The compressed feeling of the room increases. “If you’re anythin’ like her, your ego is gonna be the fuckin’ death’a you. You don’t have a right to be spreadin’ half baked information around the school.”

“People have a right to know when their lives are threatened, Ampora. The whole school is in danger because he’s allowed to wander around.” You slam a hand into the desk. His soul directs itself to you, and you feel judged. You don’t know if you pass or not. You remind yourself that Eridan’s opinion of you doesn’t matter.

“He’s not doin’ much wanderin’ today, apparently. He’s in the infirmary last I checked, and if I’m not wrong, you put him there. Fine, if you want warnin’s, then I’m givin’ you your warnin’ now. Let this information slip, an’ your livelihood here at the school is over. I think it’s also fair to warn you that the danger you’re so enamored with is more relevant to your partner than she’d like to admit. Kishin are cruel, twisted versions of humanity, devourin’ souls without a second thought to who deserves what. If you’re so obsessed with justice, your fixation on Vriska is an oxymoron. She’s no better than her mother.”

A rush of air flies past your face, and you can hear bone hit bone. Eridan’s soul loses balance and lands on the ground, with Vriska’s soul emanating waves of hatred. Towards him, but also violently inward. The spikes of her soul strike her soft spots. She won’t cry, but you feel like she should. “Keep talking and I’ll prove that gods can bleed.”

You can hear Eridan stand, and the oppressive weight of the room increases. More air flies past you, and you hear a slam of books as Vriska’s body makes an impact with the bookcase behind you both. You can see how his soul extends to grab hers, but you know Vriska can’t. He clenches, then approaches. He takes the note from her pocket.

You don’t think before you jump onto his back, tackling him to the ground and fighting for where you think the paper might be. Vriska is released, but Eridan kicks you off before you can continue wrestling him for the paper. You roll across the floor until you hit the desk, slamming your side into it. You can feel Vriska step over you to try and grab Eridan again. Eridan’s soul rises. You hear a fwoom, like the starting of a fire, before the presence of the paper is gone. You don’t smell fire though. All you smell is the absence of anything where it used to be.

“I guess you’ll have to prove it some other day.” He grabs the end of his cape and exits the room. “Don’t tell Karkat, or I’ll make sure you’ll never have the chance.”

You hate him, you think. You roll over to sit instead of being sprawled on the ground, and Vriska lifts you up to your feet. She hates him even more. You can feel it.

Now you know you were right. In someway knowing that you’re right is enough, but now knowing how angry Eridan will be if you prove it? You’re going to be searching for evidence day and night. Spite is a powerful thing.

Vriska bumps you on the shoulder with her knuckle. “I’m going to kill Death, Terezi.”

“Let’s focus on not getting everyone else killed, first.”

Your walk out into the dark halls of the school is uneventful, without the two of you operating under the guise of being on a mission. Vriska’s soul is softened around the edges, with thick, strong spikes floating out to keep it safe. You’re holding her hand even if she says she hates that. You can feel her acceptance. Her nerves still poke through.

“Hey so. You don’t believe the shit Eridan said, right? About my mom?”

“Of course not. He could never turn me against you.” You can't deny what you've heard, though. You think you’ve always known she’s come from a bad place. The part about her mothers Kishin status is unexpected, but you know Vriska. You trust her. She always knows what to do, and you know she cares about you more than anyone else. Ambition isn’t a sin, it’s a drive. It’s being willing to do what no one else will. Sure, she’s done some horrible things, intentionally hurting others to gain success, and cheating her way to the top of the class, but you know that you’ll be a good influence on her. You can make her better. You know she has remorse somewhere. After losing her eye in her last battle with Tavros, with him injuring his legs beyond repair, she said that seeing him at all now was just an excuse to look at her mistakes. She said she didn’t want to be held down by guilt. She’s burying the past. Looking forward, never stopping. You respect her more than she knows.

“Good. You won’t rat me out?”

“Why would I?” Her soul glows. You smile, revealing the pointed edges of your teeth. “Think of what a scandal it would be. How could you become the world’s greatest hero then?”

“By breaking shit until I win, obviously.”

You cackle. Your guilt at leaving Karkat with that monster is overridden with how much you love your partner. For the moment, at least.


	6. Observing Failure - Is Confrontation the Answer?

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you spent the weekend with Dave. You only occasionally left when he was asleep, or off doing check ups with Feferi. He’s not that bad. You might have been inflating how annoying he was in your head. As it turns out, conversations with him are much less one sided when you actually put your side in. 

He heals quickly. There should be a scar, and he has to come get his stitches out in a few days, but you feel like that doesn’t matter much to him. When you get back to your apartment on Sunday, you order pizza for the both of you. It’s... nice. You didn’t realize how much you missed being able to hang out with someone. You didn’t realize “hanging out with someone” was synonymous with “hanging out with Terezi” in your mind. You have friends outside of her. You had a life outside of her. It’s not her fault you got so caught up in being around her, and helping her, and practically devoting yourself to her in every possible way. She was being herself and you decided that clinging was the best course of action. You are so embarrassing. 

It’s fine. Now that you’re self aware, you can be a lot cooler around her. After speaking to her about how uncool it was that she attacked your new partner. As soon as she apologizes, you can stop feeling guilty for being in love, and it will all be cool, and good, and no one will be mad at anyone anymore. You need to stop saying cool. Dave is a bad influence.

On Monday, the two of you walk to school together. You offer to give Dave a piggyback if he gets too tired on the way up the massive ornamental stairway to the school, and Dave blows you off, running up the damn thing. Show off. You run after him, fully aware that sweat and sweaters are not as compatible as the names would suggest. When you get to the top, Dave is sitting criss cross applesauce on the last stair, waiting with a smug grin and his cheek resting in his palm. “I eat stairs for breakfast.”

“Really? Is that why all the fruitloops are gone?” You walk past him. Dave can’t really tell the difference between the new, friendly meanness you exhibit now and the old, genuine meanness you showed to him a week ago. You get the idea that by his standards, you might be saintly either way. You know the difference though, and you hope eventually he does too. You’re not going to let anyone else be mean to him, because it’s your job, and ribbing him is a partner exclusive activity.

Dave doesn’t stop grinning as he scrambles to get up and walk with you to the front door. “I thought you hated those man, I was doing you a favor eating three bowls.”

You do hate them. It was Terezi’s cereal. “Yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever. You’re buying your own cereal from now on.”

“Fuckin’ tight. Fine by me man.”

You enter the school, about to ascend more stairs to your classroom when Mrs. Pyrope approaches you. She instructs you to head towards Lord Death’s office instead of going to class today. You have a sinking feeling you know why. 

When you and Dave head up the stairs, you see his face is hardened over, half of his bottom lip tucked up into his mouth as he kneads it between his teeth. Does he know what’s going to happen?

“Hey, man, it’s going to be ok. It’s just a talk with the headmaster.” You try comforting for once. You don’t know if it succeeds. Compared to your Dad, you’re horrible at this.

“Yeah, no, it’s just. Like. We’ve talked before. It wasn’t a good conversation.” He has one hand on his watch, turning the frame of the face around and spinning the gears in his hand. It glows similarly to the hilt of his sword form. You think it’s a neat watch. Does he do that when he’s anxious? You remember how fucked up the bottom of your sweater is and try not to judge. 

“He can be intense but, he’s a good guy I swear. He was probably just trying to instill responsibility into you or something.” You shrug. You’ve seen Death in swim trunks and dumb fishing hats, you can hardly see him as intimidating now. Family vacations ruin everything, especially when your future boss is a close family friend who invites himself.

“Oh. Fuck man, I dunno. I’ll take your word for it.” He says it, but his voice doesn’t match. He’s nervous. You want to hold his hand, like back in the infirmary, just to let him know it’s ok. You instead rub his back in a very bro like manner and give him a brief “I trust you dude” to placate him. 

You have done nothing to placate your own fears about what’s going to happen, however. 

You enter Death’s office and take in just how beautiful it is. An immense sky over a dry white desert. There’s no sun, no plants, and no signs of life for miles around, though you know the room itself can’t be more than fifty feet across. The red gates leading up to his platform guide you gently into the heart of the illusion, where Death stands on a raised marble platform, waiting patiently for you and Dave to arrive. You don’t see your Dad, which is irregular. He’s usually right here, waiting with Death in case anything happens. If this conversation is what you think it is, you know why your Dad was left out of the room. You and Dave step onto the marble, your boots making heavy thumps on the rock where Dave’s converse are silent. 

“Punctual as always, you two.” You can’t see him meaning that as a unit, so you must be individually really goddamn good at not being late. Dave has a watch, so that makes sense. You would tear your hair out from sheer anger if you were ever late to anything, so that explains  _ that _ . “We’re just waiting for a few more students to arrive before we start.” 

“Who would that be, Sir?” More students complicate things. More students mean more people will know why you’re here, which is never good.

“You’ll see in just a moment, I think. Though I doubt our last group will come on time, if at all.” Death sounds pensive. Tapping a thickly boned hand to the chin of his mask, he squints down the long line of gates to two more figures. You squint in turn, and so does Dave. The long flapping white coat and bright blue hair alert you to Vriska, which means the red glasses and striped undershirt belong to Terezi. Watching Terezi cackle next to her makes your heart hurt, but you remember your self imposed rule. No love until she apologizes. Bros before ho’s, after all. Except, she’s not a ho. Uh. Partners before… ex-partners. 

Terezi and Vriska approach the platform, and Terezi seems to look straight through you. Because she is. She’s looking at your soul. You wonder if she knows. Vriska gives a judgemental look over Terezis shoulder at Dave. 

Dave, remarkably, for once, has gone cold. You know it’s because of them, but you don’t know if it’s because they fought with him, or because they tried to hurt Rose. You get the feeling he isn’t fond of people who hurt others. Instead of patting him on the back this time, you gently squeeze the base of his arm, right above his hand. More lowkey, you think. The look he gives you is pained thanks, and you feel your chest warm up at the thought of helping. 

Death looks at the two groups, mumbles something, and turns back around to the long mirror behind him on the platform. It’s full body, beautifully framed, and used exclusively for phone calls. And for when Eridan needs to fix his hair in here. Death breathes on the mirror, frosting the glass, and he writes down a number you can’t see from here. The mirror dials, and an image of Eridan pounding on some fancy black door and yelling appears behind Death. 

“Are you going to be along anytime soon?” He talks to Eridan through the mirror. Eridan is startled, turning around to squint into what must be a picture frame. 

“No. Sollux refuses to wake up before twelve. I’m about to break the door down, so we’ll be along as soon as I can wrangle pants on him.” 

“Sounds good. Don’t get handsy.” 

“FATHER!” Eridan’s face goes red.

“I’ll see you two soon. Be quick.” He shuts down the call by rubbing the frost off with his cloak and spins around to look back at the two groups. Terezi and Vriska have started laughing again, and Dave looks absolutely baffled. You, having grown up near this bullshit, are unphased. “Alright, you’re all wondering why you’re here instead of in your classes?”

“Wow, you can be Lord of Death  _ and _ a detective-” Vriska starts. 

“I’ve lived long enough to pick up some hobbies, yes.” Unphased, Death continues on. “Unrelated, I have some bad news for you all.”

You  _ knew _ it. You’re going to be expelled! Whatever remanence of your family’s legacy you were clinging onto slip out of your hands like mere fantasy. You’re a horrible son, nay, a horrible person, and your existence is a void of absent potential. Oh if only your brother could see you now, he would condescendingly pat your back and tell you it’s ok, the liar-

“You’re going to be taking some extra lessons to keep up with the rest of your class.” Oh. Never mind? “Each of you are now at a total of zero Kishin souls, compared to your high numbers before. I know this isn’t ideal for some of you, but we do pride ourselves on the excellence of our pupils, and knowing your track records before this whole swapping incident happened, I know that with a little push, the three of you will be back on track in no time, and with an extra passenger.” 

Dave is the passenger. Haha! Because he’s new. It’s funny. Oh man you’re so relieved you’re practically in hysterics. Are you laughing out loud right now? Oh fuck, you are. Why can’t you stop. It’s better than crying at least. Wait you might be doing that too. You try to play it off. “Oh that was, oh boy, was that ever a good  _ joke _ professor.” 

“I assure you this is no joke. These lessons are very serious.” 

“Oh, no that’s not what I meant, I was just-”

“It’s alright Karkat, I’m sure you’ll understand just how serious these lessons are when you get started.” Lord Death has time for no fool, and you are definitely playing the fool right now. “Your first class is about hunting and gathering. Today, you hunt for an old teacher, and you gather them back to the building. It won’t be easy. She’s known for being stubborn, and increasingly difficult to fight. I was hoping Eridan and Sollux would even the playing field, but I suppose you four will do alright together.”

You doubt that very hard. Vriska and Terezi hate Dave, Dave is clearly unimpressed by them, you hate Vriska and love Terezi, and you’re pretty sure they just think you’re a joke. This isn’t a good team up. 

“Now, I think some of you will recognize her, but keeping the secret is part of the fun here. There’s a small castle outside of the city, to the east. Follow the red brick road into the forest. Remember, she’s a had a lot of time to get very good at what she does. Don’t be discouraged if you can’t convince her right away.” Death finishes, and there’s a long pause. Dust from the fake desert blows past you. “You can go now.” 

You bow, and Dave follows your example. Terezi starts to before noticing Vriska walking away, and then follows. You wave goodbye to Death and follow after them, glaring. Vriska is awful. You wish Terezi would notice. 

Vriska is also visibly upset about all of this. She’s ahead of you and Dave, ranting and raving about how she doesn’t need this class, and Terezi is nodding along. You know Terezi enough to know that she’s disappointed in herself more than she is with the decision. She’s probably justifying it all, too, so you can’t find it in yourself to pity her.

Dave is walking ahead of you, a bit faster. He’s tense. Really, really tense. Is it the scourge sisters? Was it the talk with Death? His hand is fidgeting again. You really should be holding it for support. Instead you… what else is there to do? You’re not emotionally repressed, you can hold a fucking hand without losing your damn mind over it. You slide your hand gently into his and squeeze, not holding too tight in case he wants to let go. He doesn’t, holding yours loosely too. You hope Terezi doesn’t mind. 

“So, do we have a plan at all, or what?” You try to prod either of them for some kind of idea. Vriska is a good strategist, sometimes. The only flaw with her plans is that she’s in the middle of them.

“Yeah, follow me in, I slap her around until she sees sense, and then we walk home with extra credit and some old crone.” Vriska sounds very sure of herself.

Dave’s mouth is a hard line, with one eyebrow twitched down into irritation. “Beating up an old lady sounds like fun and all, but why the fuck can’t we just talk her into coming back?”

“Duh, because it’s an assignment. This is a school for fighting, not for conversing.” She makes a face at him, shooting her finger against her head as a short gesture for “braindead”. Her eyes flick down at where your hand is holding his. She has a brief moment of concern before turning forward. What is that about?

“Who died and made you leader?” You let go of his hand, not because Vriska was judging you or anything, to approach her and talk just behind her instead of a few feet away.

“No one has to die for something to be obvious. If you’re so against it, why don’t  _ you _ pitch an idea, genius.” Her hair flips over her shoulder. 

“We case the area around the castle before we go in. Try and figure out what the inside of it might be so we’re not caught off guard by any hidden rooms. When that’s done, we all go in together. We don’t split up, we don’t go running when we hear something down the hall, and we tell each other when we’re going to do anything. When we fight her, we try and wear her down, not  _ kill her _ . She’s supposed to be a teacher here, remember?”

“Fuuuuuuuuck, you’re so  _ boring _ . Fine. We’ll splice our plans together so you can have your little moment in the sun while you walk around a building looking like an idiot.” Her hair is tossed back, and you know you’re being ignored now. Whatever. You slow down so Dave can catch up to you, but you don’t expect his response. 

“Yeah I dunno what came over him, wanting to be prepared instead of getting all of us killed. What an idiot.” The sarcasm is heavy. He really doesn’t like her. You get why. 

“That’s what I said.” And that’s where all four of you drop it. Terezi didn’t say anything. You don’t know what that means.

 

You walk for a few hours outside of the city, until you reach the forest. The red bricks of the road look eroded and poorly placed. It’s almost better to just walk in the grass. You, Vriska and surprisingly Dave are all nimble while you travel along the path, with Terezi getting frustrated at the energy of the stones being too large and missing them entirely when gaps are in the road. She walks on the forest edge instead. 

It takes you another hour to reach the castle, and when you get there, it looks pristine. Well, about as pristine as an old, tiny castle can be. There’s greenery everywhere, a garden of beautiful flowers lining the thick red path to the door. Most of the window panes are stained glass, with the rest containing lattices and fine trims. So this is what Death Meister money gets you. 

You’re about to step off the path and into the garden when the door slams open. A woman who looks a little over forty, but visibly striking, and almost ethereally beautiful, comes storming out of the building. You set your foot back on the path, and she approaches Terezi. Terezi is already standing in the garden.

“Darling those are  _ peonies _ , do you have  _ any idea _ how difficult it was to get them to grow in this region?” She doesn’t sound British, but very posh. And incensed. 

Terezi looks at her and her eyes practically bulge out of her head, staring at the woman’s chest. The woman looks affronted. Terezi stands back. 

“We are so, so sorry ma’am, we promise we never meant to stand in any flowers, my friend is just blind and- well she’s not totally blind- she sees souls, but I guess that doesn’t help here if. Y’know. Your flowers are busted.” You start to babble before you can help it, walking over to the scene between them and inserting yourself between them. 

She sees you, and there’s a moment of recognition between the two of you before she steps back clearing her throat, and putting on a voice that mixes between bad acting and legitimately terrifying. “Regardless, I can’t let an infraction like this go unpunished. Let this be a teaching moment in how to get slaughtered.” 

Her fighting stance is almost nothing, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Luckily, Vriska is always waiting for her chance to prove she can do things first, and better. She makes a running start at her, holding her hand out for Terezi, who transforms into the ground for her to grab. She yanks her out, flourishes, and the woman is gone. She’s now where Vriska was, seemingly having teleported. 

Dave is on high alert, borderline panicking, and you take his hand again. Almost on impulse, he shrinks into his sword form. You can feel him now. He’s running on instinct. This is a moment he’s experienced before, but different. You try to keep your head for his sake. 

The woman dashes toward you and Dave next. Your first thought is to dodge. Your next thought is to do what you’re supposed to be able to do. You crouch as she makes her way toward you, ready to lunge, and you slam the flat of your sword up into her solar plexus. Red energy crawls from the blade, a soothing, light smell of cinnamon ebbing from it as it attempts to reach her face. You’ve hit her, which means you should be dispensing one of your family’s signature abilities “Holy Pacification”. Admittedly, you don’t practice this. It shows. The energy never reaches her face, and instead, she reaches around your torso and suplexes you back. You land square on your ass on the other side of her, dropping Dave. She runs off to go deal with the other two, and you try to stand up. You can’t. Are you stuck? If this isn’t a metaphor for your entire goddamn life. You can’t move, you can’t perform basic abilities, fuck, you can barely keep your grades up. That’s why you’re here. You can’t do a goddamn thing right. Dave is still transformed behind you, his tinny voice ringing over to you.  _ What are you doing? We need to stop this shit before they all murder each other! Are you stuck or something? _

You are, but right now you can’t tell if it’s because of whatever stuck you here, or because you wouldn’t get up even if you could. You’re definitely crying now. You can see the flash of light behind you as Dave shifts back. There’s a moment of pause before you feel arms wrapped around your torso, and a chin on your shoulder. You can hear metal clanging against rock behind you and the scuffling of a fight as Vriska tries to fend off the woman. 

“I dunno why you’re so upset, but this ain’t the time. I thought what you did was tight as hell, even if it didn’t work.” He’s mumbling. There’s a tinge of worry, another stronger line of anxiety, and you get the impression that this hug is for both of you.

“I can’t get up Dave, I’m stuck to the fucking ground. Even if I wasn’t, I can’t help you, or Terezi, or fucking Vriska. Death should’ve just expelled me and performed the inevitable.” One of your hands is free, and it wipes off your tears so you’re less embarrassing. You’re not even facing the fight. Did the woman do this? Did she deem you unworthy or something? Is she saving you for later? You sniffle and it takes a lot to not start crying again. 

“Dude I don’t want to make this about me, but you are literally the only thing keeping me from flipping the fuck off of the handle right now. That’s gotta count for something right?” He squeezes a little harder, and you take another hard sniffle. Right, you’re supposed to be strong for Dave. He’s the one with issues, not you. You gently set them aside to deal with never and try to stand up again. It doesn’t work, but Dave does try to help, and that helps a little. Neither of you can see binding, but your soul hurts as your body tugs down. That clues you in. Kanaya can do this. You’re sutured into the ground with parts of soul. That woman must be focused on keeping these in while fighting Vriska. 

You turn your face to Dave. You’re sure you look like a disaster, but whatever. “Dave, go punch her really hard in the face for me.” 

“What?” 

“She needs to be distracted so I can stand up!”

“Oh. I dunno what the fuck that’s about but sure thing man.” And he runs off. You can barely see the fight from here, but you see that Vriska has a few slices up her arm and has lost her eyepatch. She tries to run in again before Dave beats her to the punch, literally, almost as fast as the woman as he gets the upper hand. He punches her in the gut instead of the face, and you roll out of your position so you can stand back up. Dave jumps back, you call his name, and he backflips, becoming light and transforming directly into your hand. Who even is this guy? 

Doesn’t matter. You run forward and slam the glowing pommel of the sword into her back. Suddenly, you’re five feet back, exactly where you were five seconds ago. Dave’s voice rings out.  _ Oh. Right I should explain that. _

“You think?!” You feel a little sick after that, like you’re remembering what a headache feels like. 

_ It’s just a thing I can do. Don’t worry about it.  _

“That’s not an explanation!”

You don’t have anymore time to yell at him before you have to dodge the woman again. You keep dipping and ducking, the one thing you’re very good at. Experimentally, you slam your hand into the pommel and end up behind the woman. That's so fucking cool! Minor time displacement. Why would Dave not talk to you about this! If you could do something this sick, you would never stop. You kick the middle of the woman's back to take advantage of your new position, and send her stumbling forward. She turns around to you, opens her mouth, and reveals long sharp fangs, hissing like an injured cat. You turn tail and run towards the front door of her house. You also see Vriska. Vriska is tired, exhausted. She’s clearly irritated as well. 

She lifts her hand up, the one holding Terezi to her temple, the other extended out to the woman. She twists her hand to face up, and the world feels like it’s losing something. You notice the issue before Vriska does. Terezi falls in a beam of light to the ground, landing as a human next to Vriska. You know one of Vriska’s abilities is stealing souls. She’s threatened to do it to you and a few of your classmates before. Clearly though, she’s not very good at it. Terezi groans on the ground. 

You’re instantly angry at Vriska. You approach her with fury in your feet and a scowl on your face, ignoring the woman now to scold the shit out of Vriska. “What did you do?!”

“I was  _ trying _ to get the upper hand!”

“Well clearly that didn’t fucking work, so fix her!” You walk past Vriska and straight to Terezi. You can’t help with this. Your father could, but you can’t. Instead you hold Terezi up, setting Dave down and wrapping your arms around her, ensuring she can’t be hurt anymore. “Why can’t you go a single fucking day without hurting someone! Is it so hard to be a decent human being?!” 

Vriska starts saying anything and everything to try and defend herself, and your retorts come off as embittered interruptions to whatever she’s saying.

“That’s quite enough! I think I’ve seen all I need to see today.” The woman cuts through the noise. “You! Whatever you stole, put it back. I can’t stand seeing someone’s soul in pieces like that.”

Thank fuck, it’s not all gone. Vriska looks down at Terezi and then back up at the woman, baffled, absolutely fucking destroyed. You like that look on her. She should wear it more often. It’s too bad you’re also wearing it. Dave shifts out of his form, but stays close to you.

“If you can’t, I’ll have to.” She holds out her hand, grabs at the middle of Vriska’s chest, under her collarbone but over the tissue, and pulls slightly. Vriska is in a lot of shock but still manages to bap her hand away. The woman rolls her eyes.She shoo’s you off and away from Terezi, and hesitantly, you put her down. You and Dave stand a polite distance away. She puts the same hand on Terezi’s chest, in the same spot. Terezi stops looking so weak. “That’s going to be something to work on. Aim instead of proximity.” 

Why is she not fighting you anymore? You’re still a little dumbfounded. When she stands up straight, a good foot above all of you, she turns back to you and Dave, opening her arms. 

“Oh! Just look at you. What a darling little man you’ve become. You look just like your father when he was your age.” What. You and your dad look nothing alike, first of all. He has black hair and a beard, and dresses like some fucking meditation yogi, and your hair is red, and you can dress yourself like a normal fucking person. You also don’t have facial hair yet. You’re tending to your one chin hair very well though. Second of all, who the fuck is this. 

Your expression reads clearly, apparently, because the next thing out of her mouth is, “Oh of course, you wouldn’t remember me. I’m Rosalind Maryam, Kanaya’s aunt, and a grandmother of yours by a few generations. I admit, I’ve been around for a while. A decade or two gets lost somewhere, but oh look at how the time flies, hmm?” 

She is now close enough to hug you, and she does. You get a face full of MILF boob and a nose full of fancy perfume. You know where you remember this woman from now. Kanaya’s fourth birthday party, chuck e cheese. Rosalind stood around handing out birthday hats. Kanaya cried for hours because she hated it there. You got two hats because you wanted to look like a demon and scare the rest of the kids. Rosalind thought it was cute and wouldn’t stop taking pictures of you failing to scare anyone. Your family and Kanaya’s are pretty tight knit. It makes sense she would remember you. Didn’t she teach at the school around then too? Is that why she stuck you to the ground instead of fighting you?

On that note, how old is she? She’s your grandmother(ish). She has fangs. Oh man. Now you know where Kanaya gets her vampire obsession. 

The hug is nice though. You mumble. “Right. Nice to see you I guess?” 

“I  _ guess _ it’s nice to see you too. I’ll be seeing a lot of you yes? Death called me a few days ago to let me know a teaching position had opened up unexpectedly, and I just had to take it.” She slides out of the hug and slicks your hair down with her hand. She steps back enough to address all of you. “I simply love kids. Teaching, especially. It’s been a few years but I think I still have what it takes.”

“So what was this all even about!” Vriska hollers, baffled more than angry.

“It was a chance to learn what your strengths and weaknesses are. A basis for your extra classes, if you will. Within the last part of the year, we shall improve what needs to be improved and strengthen what is already strong. Although, I do recall being informed that more students would be here.” She starts counting, just to be sure. She finds herself to be correct and nods. “I’m sure we’ll discover why, hmm? Until then, back to the school grounds. I want you all to ruminate on how you did today.” 

Dave has managed to slink up against the wall. That’s some whiplash. You guess someone so inexperienced with people would have a difficult time understanding what personality 360 just happened. He’s easing up though. You think her hugging you might’ve smoothed over some mind speedbumps. 

Terezi is now off the ground, holding her chest and standing about three feet away from Vriska. Rosalind claps her hands, walks between the two groups of you, and heads into her home. The door closes. You’re all left outside.

“Did, a vampire just fix my soul and kick our asses?” Terezi rasps. Clearly she’s still a little fucked up.

“I think we kicked our own asses a little bit.” Dave returns. He’s looking at the other two like he’s seeing them for the first time. They did just lose pretty badly. Compared to the last time he saw them, this is a major difference.

“Shut up. Sometimes people fuck up, it’s no big deal. Let’s not talk about it anymore, and instead talk about whatever isn’t that. Besides, don’t you have some fucking, people to be slaughtering or whatever!” What the fuck is that supposed to mean. Before you can ask, Vriska has already started walking away. Terezi puts her foot down. 

“Vriska! This time, maybe we should fucking talk about it. I could’ve been killed! Don’t you care?” Terezi stomps her way after her. 

“Of  _ course _ I care, but now I have to focus on making sure that shit never happens again.” The argument continues off into the distance. 

Dave prods the back of your shoulder. “Hey. Are you good to start walking back? We don’t have to go with them.”

You shake your head. What did Vriska say? Why did she direct it at Dave? You’re staring at their retreating bodies. “No. They’re going to tear each others throats out with no one to act as a buffer.” 

“Aite, but you had a bad time today too, so someone’s getting a piggyback.” He rushes in front of you and crouches. You don’t know how the fuck to react to that. 

“You didn’t let me give you one on the stairs this morning, why the fuck should I let you now?” 

“Because I’m offering, and I’m already in this dumb position, and I know you complain about your feet hurting too much for me to listen to that when we get home.”

You roll your eyes and climb onto his back. “Fine. This doesn't get you off the hook for not telling me about that time ability though.” 

He shrugs and shuffles you into a comfortable position. “Damn. I thought you forgot about that.”

"Not fucking likely." 

While the two of you head into the forest, your brain is still going. You're also worried about Terezi, particularly Terezi being involved with Vriska, and the way the two of them act around Dave. You aren’t going to jump to conclusions about him again. You trust him enough to let him give you a damn piggyback ride for fucksakes.

He's not a bad person, so why do people treat him like one?


	7. Casual appreciation - If it’s quiet, does it resonate?

You’re back in the apartment now, after returning from the woods. You didn’t expect a class like that, but then again, you haven’t expected a lot of things recently. Karkat is making tea for you both in the kitchen, with some shopping bags littering the floor. You bought a record player and a few classics, and you’re busy fiddling with the records trying to find something you’ll both like. 

Your name is Dave. 

It’s a quiet moment, and you know you should fill the silence with something. Anything. You don’t _like_ the silence. Seeing him in the kitchen utterly unfocused on you, knowing he’s unaware, eats at you. Knowing you can’t talk to him honestly hurts. He’s harsh, and difficult, and clearly fucked up about a lot of things, and you’re not any kind of mind reader about this shit but, you know pain when you see it. You could tell him that you know what disappointing someone feels like. You could say you know what he’s going through, trying harder and harder to make something work that isn’t going to, like popping out a joint. You pull until something tugs, until it doesn’t feel right. Shoving a square peg into a round hole. Putting a broken record into a record player.   
You want to tell him where you’ve come from. What happened to you. What you’re doing, where you used to be. How conflicted you are about any of this. How severed you are from your sense of self that your soul feels hollow and distant. How difficult emotions can be and how easy they are when he shows you how to use them. How fucked up you would’ve been in the woods today if Karkat wasn’t there.

There’s a lot of things you want to say, but instead you say anything else. You don’t know if you’re allowed to say what you want.

You finally find a record you like and set the needle, and a soft beat plays in the distance. Smooth to fill the quiet, with a bump to keep the noise from stagnating. The record player is set on the tiny kitchen table, and you sit in one of the chairs in front of it patiently. “So. Do you have a lot of mysterious family members who live in the woods?”  
Karkat rolls his eyes, pouring milk into the mugs of tea he was busy with. You’re about to tell him you don’t like milk but honestly, but you’d probably take anything he gave you. He comes out from around the kitchen’s island to set a mug in front of you. “No, Dave. Just the one. The rest of my family is very vocal and very obnoxious.” 

“That sucks, I was sorta hoping you might be like, a secret sasquatch or something.” You pick up the mug and let it burn your hands. You never got to try tea before this month, and you can’t say you like it very much, but Karkat is always making it, so clearly there’s something to like.   
“Your social grace gets better every day.” He scoffs and glares at you over his mug, but finally sits down in the chair next to the wall, on the other corner of the table. It’s close. 

“See but like, you see the correlation right? With the whole, woods thing.” There’s no saving that. Bail, Dave, bail. “Either way man she had the fuckin’ coolest castle house thing. How have you never visited?”   
“Privacy? She’s my however many greats grandmother, I don’t think she’s that into guests. Especially when they’re as genetically diluted from herself as I am.” 

“She seemed pretty excited to see you though.”   
“I don’t know her logic Dave, I just know I’m related to a vampire who lives in the woods and gardens azaleas all day.” He’s exasperated, setting the mug down. It’s then that he notices the music. “Oh shit you don’t play around. What did you settle on?”  
“Pink cover. The band name is incomprehensible so like, fuck me ever finding more of this.” You do like it, which makes this whole thing an absolute pity.    
“I know fuck all about music. What genre even is this?”   
“It’s like, soft electronica? It’s been mixed to sound soft even if the samples they chose aren’t the sappiest. It’s transformative.”  
“What does that all even start to mean?”  
“Uh. It’s, like.” You lift a hand up to be your conductor's baton while you speak, hovering lightly over the record player as the song cuts out. A new one starts off, a light, slow snare drum kicking into the rhythm as the rest of the instruments fade in behind it. “It’s all about pacing. Something fast is gonna pump you up, make you energized and ready to get some fuckin’ business done. Slow shit’s gonna cool you down, so when people mix their beats they gotta decide what the pace is gonna be. These guys want you to chill, so their music is chill.”

Karkat nods, taking another sip of his tea. He taps the side of your mug lightly with his knuckle and looks at you. He’s telling you to drink it. Right. You take a sip. 

“I get that, but what about this is _sappy_ exactly?”   
“It’s like. Shit flows well? And it keeps dipping into the minor key to let you know there’s like, intent behind the chords. Some of them are unfinished, and then they get finished by the backbeat. It’s literally a whole ‘nother language.”   
“So. It’s regretful, not sappy.” You shrug. Karkat’s paying a lot of attention to you. It’s hard to think.

“Nah nah, listen to how it resolves.” His eyebrows cinch and leave a wrinkle between them, which you spend a little too much time looking at before diverting your eyes. You focus on his hands. They’re so _small_. Shit. You look at the wall instead. “You hear the music speak to itself. It’s trying to talk to you too but like, it’s like how when you’re listening to someone speak Spanish or something, and you can tell they’re happy or upset or whatever but you don’t know what the meaning behind the words is. You learn the language, and then you know. Whoever wrote this song had it bad.”  
Karkat’s expression shifts to something more heartbroken. “I think I get it.”

You know he does. You’ve been watching him look at Terezi all day. He doesn’t deserve to go through that, but fuck you if you ever talk to him about anything like that. 

“It’s pretty universal, I think.” Your mouth is dry. You drink more tea. 

Karkat looks like he wants to speak. He gets this expression on his face every time he thinks he’s being coy, where he’s looking at everything but you and his mouth is a hard pressed line of sheer anxiety. After a moment of pause, he starts. “How do you convince someone that they’re in a bad situation so that they can leave it?”

Shit. You definitely can’t help with this. You’re still fucked up over your own apparently not normal childhood and everything that entails. It hasn’t even been that long since you left. You’re still not sure how bad it was, though you understand for the most part that it was bad. A part of you always understood. 

“Offer them a way out, I guess?” You have nothing better than that.   
“But what if they don’t want to leave.” He’s staring at the record player. He’s definitely talking about Terezi.  
“It’s their choice to stay, even if it’s the objectively shitty choice.” You almost made it yourself. You didn’t know.

Karkat looks even more upset about that. You’re biting back more commentary, things that might help, things that would give context, things more useful than music theory or dumb jokes, a larger part of you than the small moments of happiness you experienced before coming here. You decide he shouldn’t be left out of the loop. He’s your partner now. Being vague won’t get you in trouble with Lord Death, right?

“I uh. When I got out, it was really hard for anyone to talk to me about it. You get stuck in a bad place so long that bad seems normal.” You’re not looking at him, but you know he’s looking at you now. You can feel his eyes on you. You’re good at sensing those sorts of things. 

“Dave…. you don’t have to. It was a dumb question and I didn’t know and-” Karkat starts up an apology before you cut him off, patting his shoulder. 

“S’fine. I’m not gonna get us in trouble or whatever by making big general statements about shit you’re not allowed to know about.” 

“That’s not what I meant. If it hurts to talk about this, I don’t want to force you to.” Karkat sounds serious. It’s the same sympathetic voice he used when he apologized on Friday. He cares more about you than he does about knowing. Your chest swells and sinks.

“I’m the one who pulled up my own bullshit man.” He makes a disagreeing noise and opens his mouth again. You cut him off. “Seriously, do you want to get some bonafide advice for this Terezi problem or what.” 

He huffs, sinking into his chair. He’s a bit more withdrawn, but he nods. 

“So. Sometimes it’s good, and you convince yourself that the good times are worth it when the bad times come around. Little shit, like getting treats or praise when you get something right. It makes confronting the fact that the bad shit happened harder.” You can feel pieces of yourself slipping. You sink. You know your voice is dropping into the thin monotone you used to rely on back home. You haven’t opened up this deep yet, and your soul feels farther from you than normal. You can’t grasp it. 

Karkat covers your wrist with his hand and tugs your soul back in. 

“It’s hard to admit you need help when you think things are the way they should be.”

He squeezes gently, and you turn your head to look at him. He’s crying. He keeps doing that around you. “Dave. Why is everyone forcing you to stay quiet about this? It’s not healthy. It’s not helpful. It fucking sucks that you’ve been here thinking about this shit, sleeping a wall away from me, and I didn’t-” He stops. You don’t want to keep looking at his face. It makes your chest ache. “I didn’t know you hurt this much.” 

“It’s fine, seriously. I’m used to it.”

“That makes it worse! It makes it so much fucking worse. You deserve better.” He’s ditched your hand and gotten out of his chair. “I’m hugging you, and you’re going to take that hug with every inch of affection and appreciation I’m shoving into it.”

Oh fuck. Okay. You have Karkat on you in the next second, and he’s warm, and soft, and he smells a little salty from walking so much today, but you don’t care. There’s still his underlying clean laundry smell. You didn’t pick it up as his until you got this close. He’s sniffling into your shoulder and you feel bad you aren’t crying too. It’s hard to feel bad for yourself.

This hug lasts longer than most of the other hugs you’ve gotten. You got some hugs from Mr. Nitram in those first two weeks, when someone finally came to visit you in your holding cell. You got some from your Bro when you were younger, but not for a while afterwards. You bring your arms up and return it, finally. Karkat’s small body is easy to squeeze. You think about how differently this would’ve gone two months ago. You’re glad he didn’t meet you then.  

You’re the one to break the hug, patting his back and gently moving him off. It’s starting to make you feel guilty, holding him this long. You don’t really get why.

“You’re a good person, Karkat.” You believe it. His face doesn’t. 

“I don’t know where that came from. This is basic decency.” He’s wiping away tears, and you can see the cogs turn as he rejects the idea of him being good wholesale. You’re not going to let him. 

“You keep being nice to me. I sure as fuck don’t deserve it, so. Maybe some of that holy whatever the shit from your bloodline rubbed off, you saintly motherfucker.” 

He punches your arm, as hard as he can. It’s pretty hard. “Shut up! I’m being nice to you, you asshole.”

“So am I.”

“Get over yourself!” 

“I’m so over me I practically built the bridge for it.”

“You’re intolerable.”

You laugh at him, and he shifts from angry to relieved. You don’t know why. You get out of your chair and take your mug of tea with you. “Yo do we still have pizza?”

“Unless you ate it all this morning, no.” 

“Nah that was the cereal, remember?” 

“Right.”

You’re standing really close to him, he hasn’t moved from where he started hugging you. You can still feel warmth where he held you, and your stomach sinks the moment he turns around into the kitchen. He takes the parts that were left untouched with him, leaving only the burning tension of everything else on your body.

Oh no. 


	8. Gathering Materials- Shall we rally?

Today is a wonderful day! For the most part, anyway. You managed to collect enough toadstools for your stew later, the bones in the yard are rattling appropriately, and your dress hasn’t decayed in days! You even have an event tonight. 

Your name is Aradia Megido, and you have a council meeting to go to. 

It’s not that bad, usually. It’s just a gathering of some of the world’s most powerful witches to talk about new information and get on the same page. You’re not one of these powerful witches, yet, because you’re too young. No, you’re a simple frog witch, and you’re there to learn. Unfortunately, the room tends to be very hostile, and at least one or two of your kind end up dead by the end. 

Fine enough by you, more bones for the yard. If you can grab them fast enough, that is. 

You land with a light skip on your pointy shoes as you dismount your broom. You still don’t land gently, but you do know how to do a loop-de-loop mid air, so you’re not the worst rider ever.  _ Rib Robbit Rib _ , Your broom shrinks into a small twig in your hand, and you tuck it under your hat for later. Your hat croaks at this, and you laugh. 

A few more witches are trickling in as the meeting starts to assemble. The coven building is constantly on the move so that interlopers can’t find the base of operations. Namely, the DWMA. You don’t talk to many witches, as is customary for your kind, and so all of your gossip is second or third hand. You’ve heard that the DWMA has been cracking down recently. That must be what the meeting is about today.

Your walk through the grand entranceway is met with little fanfare, as the grey dusky hallway entombs you into the building. The hallway’s are high, but narrow, branching off into flows and corridors. You know that every path leads to the middle eventually, but you also know which one takes you there the fastest. You continue further in. 

You enter into the coven’s massive assembly room, a wide circle carved from rock made to fit thousands. At one point, it must have. Now your ranks are smaller. There are seats carved into the rock, and a raised stage for the most powerful members among you to speak. The majority of the witches fill the back seats first, knowing what happens when you get too close to the front. You? You embrace the idea of death. You just want to be front row and center as the world burns. 

So you go to the front. You sit next to another witch. She’s got a short bob and a pretty face, with webbing all down her short poofy dress. When you look at her with your wide, intruding gaze, she finally stares back. She gives you a polite smile, and you smile back brightly with all of your teeth! When you look away, you notice her smile drop out of the corner of your eye. Some witches can be so two faced. 

You were right on time, as always, and some of the more important council members file in, heads high, faces beautiful and timeless. Each of them is older than several civilizations. You pull one of your frogs off of your hat and hold it in your hands, squeezing like a stress toy. They’re all dead anyway. You like the way the eyes pop. You also like to watch powerful women cat fight about nothing. 

Speaking about cat fights, Roxanne Lalonde takes the stage. She’s so  _ old, _ and so _ pretty.  _ You’re so glad you’re a witch. She stands in a pure, pale, pearlescent white gown, black clawed gloves all the way up the arm, and an elegant cape that drapes onto the floor, trailing a good ten feet behind her. She’s wearing her fancy shit. You like the way it sparkles. Her eyes open and her teeth are bared as she smiles at the crowd, spinning to bask in the attention. 

“Hello! It’s good’ta see you all again. It’s been ages! How’ve’ya been doin’!” She pauses like she wants a response, but before anyone can say anything, she continues. “Good! We’ve got somethin’ big to talk about today, so sit pretty an’ lend us ya’ears for a few hours, ‘kay?” 

Again, she leaves a gap for response. This time, one witch is dumb enough to respond. You make sure not to blink.  _ Hiss Kiss, Scratch _ . You’re watching, wide eyed, anticipating what’s to come when the witch suddenly falls over dead, landing on the carved rock pews with a small trickle of blood running from her temple and onto the seat. You don’t scurry off to grab her corpse, just because it seems disrespectful. You also can’t grab it if you die. Lalonde is very particular about manners, and getting up before someone’s done speaking is a big no no. 

“As you all know, we’ve been makin’ some big headway on that whole army business. One of our business partners has unfortunately gone missin’, which really tears into the research aspect of our plan, but we did manage to get his notes before the DWMA were able to raid his place. Unfortunately, the test subject is in their hands.” One of her clawed gloves clenches, digging into her palm. She’s still smiling, but her aura has gotten significantly more vindictive. How important was that test subject? The crowd murmurs with conversation, as some witches seem to be in the know about what happened, and are filling in the confused people beside them. The girl next to you seems to know as well, but since you’re so close, she doesn’t dare. She’s squirming in her seat, lips clenched tight to prevent anything coming out. With a glare, Lalonde stops all conversation. 

“Don’t despair. You know we’ve had larger mishaps in the past. This is just a li’l inconvenience.” She shrugs. She looks over her shoulder at the other side of the room. “They think they’re keepin’ things so secret at that school’a their’s. Their vettin’ process really needs to improve, especially for who they let in. We’ve got a witch on the inside, ladies, an’ she’s been very diligent, sendin’ us all the updates we need.”

More murmuring. More witches filling people in. The girl next to you looks like she’s about to implode with information. 

“So, now we’re presented with an issue. We have people there that we need to get out, an’ get out soon. Our witch on the inside has given us a short list of potential targets. The test subject, our dear ally, an’ a few extras. Students. People with potential. An’ of course, the witch herself.” She pauses. Her catlike glance strikes you through the chest, hitting your core and making your head fuzzy. “We need volunteers to get them out. People who are skilled with soul protect, an’ specialize in infiltration an’ removal, are requested, but we also need people to contain the barrier aroun’ Death City. Distractions.”

You could do that. You’re good at distractions. You could distract someone all day. 

“Saranguarel will be takin’ over the recruitment process, an’ explainin’ the particulars ‘a the whole sha’bam. We plan to strike in a month’s time, when the moon is full an’ the DWMA is celebratin’ the creation’a their oppressive association. I’ll be waitin’ to hear which’a my sisters are brave enough to join this worthy cause.”

And just like that, she’s gone, like she was never there, leaving her smile and nothing else, until that’s gone too. 

The next to approach the stand is your old mentor, Saranguarel. She’s a ram witch, stubborn and thick skinned, good at causing chaos and getting out quickly. She’s not nearly as dressed up as Lalonde was. Instead, she’s wearing a cloak with a thick wool trim around the collar, and an adjusted Cheongsam underneath. She’s in dark reds and browns, with green accents. You love the way she expresses her deeply seated anger and vengeance through color. 

She’s not nearly as cordial, speaking in fragmented sentences through her gritted teeth. She’s a grump, but she’s your grump. “Stay if you’re going to help. Die if you aren’t.” 

A few witches who haven’t been in the business for long do trickle out,  _ Damned Ram Ram _ , and Sara kills them with an aggressive snap of magic, each with an explosion of chaotic energy. You don’t make a move to leave, and neither does the girl beside you. There’s a small collection of witches here to help, some more powerful than others, but all sitting resolute. Everyone here wants to help regain ground. You at least want to see the school burn down. 

“Good. We talk tactics tomorrow at twilight. Don’t be late.” She leaves the platform, with the rest of the head witches following behind her. You try to get a headcount of the rest of the people in attendance and fail. You doubt there will be this many witches tomorrow for the real meeting, but seeing how incensed some of them are, you know there will be enough. 

You dust off your dress, tuck your frog back onto your hat, and make your exit. The girl sitting next to you for the talk tugs your sleeve before you can get far. Her dress poofs into sharp points, with her hat curling in on itself. She addresses you. “You know what this all means, right?”

“Of course!” You don’t, you just think conflict is neat. You think she senses this. You take a hold of her wrist as you approach the corpse in the seats, tugging her along for the ride. 

“It means the witch trials will be starting again. The war is continuing where it left off.” She seems startled, but follows.

“It’s all fine by me.  _ Rib Robbit Rib _ .” Your hand touches the corpses head delicately. Her beautiful purple eyes are the first to go, bubbling out. Her skin rots, her organs follow. The girl behind you wrinkles her nose. You pull away a clean skull, tucking it under your hat as you turn back to her. “I just want to watch.”


	9. Time to Practice! - Back to the Basics?

(See more concept art Here: [egosweetheart.tumblr.com](http://egosweetheart.tumblr.com))

* * *

 

It’s been a few days since Monday’s class, and now, on Thursday, you’re scheduled to have another remedial lesson. Back to the woods you go. Eridan and Sollux are on time, thankfully, and Eridan gives you all a ride on his hover board. You’re huddled together, Eridan holding a transformed Sollux, You holding a transformed Dave and Eridan’s waist, and Vriska holding onto a transformed Terezi, holding onto your waist. You don’t exactly like being in the middle, but you’re the smallest and most likely to fall off. You resent this.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you wish you weren’t stuck in a group of vastly more talented people.

You arrive in the woods in front of your great grandmother’s castle much faster than before, where she seems to be sipping tea on the front step, sunhat on to keep away the sunlight. You don’t know if she’s adverse to it or not, but either way, she’s prepared. She finishes sipping her tea, setting it down on the staircase as all of you clamor off the hover board. The weapons all transform back to stand next to you.

“Hello children! What a lovely day for a lesson outdoors. If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you to the clearing where we’ll be learning.” She’s about to leave, then squints. She counts heads. “Ah! An appropriate amount of students. Good.”

She then walks past you, past her garden, and makes an immediate left turn into the woods. Eridan hops back on his hover board, clasps Sollux’s hand, and pulls him up behind him. They zip after her without offering another ride. Figures. Vriska yells at him while running after, and Terezi begrudgingly follows. You and Dave look at each other. He shrugs. You shrug back. You both follow them into the woods.

It’s a ten minute hike through thick plant life when you finally arrive at the clearing. The whole thing is a good fifty feet across, give or take, the grass shorn low. Rosa has been doing some landscaping. She stands in the middle with her hands folded in front of her. You move where the others are, into a semi circle in front of her. She abruptly sits down, patting the grass next to her. Vriska huffs, but follows. Terezi doesn’t get the memo, because she’s blind, and Vriska tugs her down. Sollux, Dave and yourself follow easily, but Eridan has to remove his cloak, muttering something about the filthy wilderness as he does.

“Are you wondering why I’ve brought you here?” Rosa starts.

“Yeah, you’ve brought us into the middle of the woods to kill us.” A rare response from Sollux. The sarcasm isn’t so rare.

“Shut up dipshit.” You’re still mad about the text he sent you, so you take it upon yourself to fix his attitude.

“Thank you Karkat. No, I’m not going to kill you. I’m here to teach you.” She closes her eyes, and breathes in. “Take in the world around you. The dirt, the wind, the vegetation. This is where everything comes from. Today, we go back to the basics.”

“Ugh, We’ve been in school for fucking ever now, when do we get to do cool shit again?” Vriska interrupts this time. Her foot is tapping impatiently.

“When you’ve managed to collect any number of kishin eggs.” Rosa gives her a very dramatic side eye. Vriska glares back with her one good eye. “No, today we try to remember the basics of your training. Soul resonance, compatibility, how the process of transformation works, and most of all, the secret to a functional team. Does anyone remember the first thing you were taught in class?”

Eridan and Dave only just started class, so they’re not answering. Sollux wouldn’t answer anyway. Vriska doesn’t pay attention, but before you can raise your hand, Terezi does. “A sound soul dwells within a sound mind, and a sound body.”

“Very good. Why is this important, anyone else?”

Eridan’s still a reaper. Even if he didn’t know the answer to the question because of the way she phrased it, he was practically breastfed soul knowledge from a young age. “If you’re not a functional person, you’re never gonna be able to handle someone else.”

“Good. Discordant minds and unpracticed bodies make poor partners, so your training from now on is getting you all in the right head space, and making sure you’re practicing working with one another.”

“So, therapy and working out?” Sollux tosses out again. “I don’t work out.”

“I’m sure. It’s about learning to cooperate, more than anything.” She holds out her hand. “May I have a weapon, please.”

Dave is the first to stand up, transforming into her hand. There’s no visible strain on her.

“Some people are more cooperative than others, and in some cases, that cooperation resolves in soul flexibility. Thank you Dave.” There’s a pause before he transforms back, sitting in the grass again. “Another weapon, please.”

This time, Terezi stands up, doing the same as Dave. Again, there’s no strain.

“When you stop enforcing your expectations on others, simply existing as a third party, you can work with anyone. Unfortunately for most of the population, personalities are just too strong to overcome that barrier. Thank you, Terezi dear.” Terezi transforms back into her spot. “If I could have you all stand for me please. Weapon's, please transform for your meister's.”

Everyone stands, including Rosa, and follows her instructions. You all have no visible problem holding your weapons.

“Now, if you please, I’d like you to switch for me. Karkat, hand Dave off to Vriska, Eridan, give Sollux to Karkat, and Vriska, give Terezi to Eridan.” You all follow her instructions. Vriska is immediately burned, dropping Dave. Eridan’s arm is yanked down by Terezi, and you experience some unpleasant but manageable shocks to your hand. You almost feel smug for being able to hold Sollux while the other two meister's struggle. “This is what happens when meister's and weapon's aren’t compatible. When two souls are too similar, or have differences so irreparable that solving them is simply out of the question. This also happens when your mind and body are out of sync. You can all transform back if you’d like.”

They all come back in a flash of light.

“Would anyone like to explain why these pairings didn’t work out?”

You raise your hand this time. She nods, smiling proudly at you. Now you’re embarrassed. You cough into your fist before talking to try and hide it. “Dave and Vriska fucking hate each other. Eridan needs someone low maintenance to counteract his everything, and Terezi is too vocal about her opinions for that bullshit, and me and Sollux are both too negative?”

“I suppose so. I don’t know you all as well as I should, so that’s quite a big help.” Goddamnit, you answered a question she didn’t know the answer to and now you’re a fucking nark. You drag a hand down your face, and Sollux punches you in the shoulder. Vriska sarcastically thanks you. Like they all needed another reason to think you were lame.

“Oh hush, I’m supposed to teach you how to better yourselves. Now, how many of you like music?” Dave sheepishly raises his hand before tucking it back down into his pocket. “Good! Now, I don’t know how many teachers still teach this sort of thing, but music can be a wonderful metaphor when talking about souls.”

She pulls out a surprisingly modern phone, turning up the volume and letting some soft orchestral music play. “Each soul is like an instrument, with its own sound and personality. Some instruments sound horrible together, and some harmonize so beautifully that you can’t imagine them ever being played apart. The lovely thing about music is that every genre is explored through different instruments, different ways of expressing human emotion that all culminate into something wonderful.”

The song has been lilting and bobbing as she speaks. When she stops, you have a moment to listen, until it eventually peaks into a beautiful climax.

“When your instrument is tuned, it plays better. When you have a bias against a certain instrument, it will sound cacophonous. When you know the right tune, you can create something beautiful. That’s all soul resonance is, really. Connecting on a deeper level to function perfectly as one.” The song ends with a somber long note. She savors the moment.

“Alright so like, how the fuck are we supposed to tune ourselves? We don’t have those spiny bullshit things on top of a guitar.”

“Tuning pegs, Vriska dear. No, unfortunately you do not. What you do have is the ability to communicate with one another. When you know your partner well, and you know what they’re doing, you can function as a whole unit in battle. Will each of you tell something about yourselves? Something you’re sure no one else here knows. It doesn’t have to be personal.” There’s silence. She gives everyone the chastising grandma look. “Fine, I’ll start. I ride a motorcycle.”

“What the fuck? That’s so sick!” Sollux blurts it out before he can help it.

“Good. Sollux, it’s your turn then.”

“Oh shit, uh. Fuck. Fine.” He pauses. “I have an uncle?”

“Good one. Eridan, you next.”

“Fuckin’ really? Whatever. I have a thing about dirt.”

“I could’ve guessed, but good. Terezi?”

“My sister is dating his uncle. It’s gross.” She sticks her tongue out.

“What the fuck? You knew I had an uncle?”

“Yeah dipshit, I’m shocked you didn’t know he was dating her.”

“I don’t ask questions about his love life, he’s my fucking uncle.”

“Shh, dears, we all love family drama but this isn’t the time.” Rosa sticks her hands out, passifying, before pointing at Vriska.

“Pass.”

“Darling anything will do.”

“I pass.”

“So today we learned you’re uncooperative. That’s certainly something. Dave?”

He shrugs, hands still dug into his pockets. He looks at Vriska, then looks back at the ground like he’s made up his mind. “I like taking pictures of shit?”

Rosa smiles warmly. “That’s very endearing. Karkat?”

Shit. You didn’t think of anything. You were too busy paying attention to everyone else, and now they’re staring. “I think, Adam Sandler’s movies are good?”

Everyone groans except for Rosa. Vriska cuts in. “We already knew that dumpass! You have fucking awful taste in movies!”

“Shut up! He’s an underrated master!”

“What about 50 first dates!?”

“Questionable but still a fun romp! Next goddamn question!”

“Ok children, time to calm down. Vriska, if you’re going to criticize Karkat for his answer, you might as well put something in yourself.” Rosa uses the hands again. It’s just a motion. There’s no magic or whatever this time folks.

“Fine! I once spent a full week eating nothing but raw eggs just to see if I could do it.”

“Ah. A scientist.”

“I’m a goddamn pioneer.”

“I see. I also see Vriska’s point here, Karkat. If the group already knew, you need to give us something else.”

Panic mode again. You thought she was distracted by Vriska. This isn’t fair, all of these people know you to some extent. You’ve known almost everyone here since you were kids, with the exception of Sollux and Dave. Your secrets are secrets for a reason, and you think they’re badly kept anyway. You huff. “My boots are three sizes too big.”

“There we go. Alright. Does everyone feel like they know one another better?” There’s a grumble throughout the group, but Rosa nods enthusiastically anyway. “Good! Now, for the rest of the morning, if I could have my meister's practicing their basic stances, and my weapons practicing different levels of transformation, I would be very happy. We break at noon for lunch at my house. I made finger sandwiches last night.”

She claps her hands and you all start to shuffle away. You go through the motions easily, as you do this every morning when you wake up anyway. They’re basic movements of defense and attack, an easy fluid motion that keeps you rooted to the ground. Eridan is practicing something more complex, faster. Vriska has just started doing push ups at a breakneck speed.

As time continues on, you start paying attention to Dave. He transforms his hand, then his arm, only the blade of his sword coming through. He transforms the bone of his forearm into a blade that juts out from the side, and again with his leg, sweeping down before transforming back. He turns to the woods surrounding the clearing before summoning himself as a sword again.

The blade that comes out is a translucent version of the one you usually carry, hazy and dim, flickering with energy. Terezi stops what she’s doing to watch, baffled. You’ve never seen anyone do that other than him. People usually need to use their physical form to transform into weapons. Dave is an exception, apparently. He uses the tree in front of him like a training dummy, almost robotically before Rosa puts a hand on his shoulder. The sword disappears, and he looks like he’s sucking air back into his lungs. She whispers something to him and he nods. You’re very confused.

She calls off the practice and begins herding you all back to her house, into her dining room. In a few minutes, she has tea and sandwiches in front of all of you. Lunch passes. You’re dismissed. You all head home on Eridan’s hover board.

You’ve been thinking. Dave can do something like that, so why can’t anyone else? Namely, you. You would be so much stronger if you could just summon yourself. If you could do that, maybe you wouldn’t be stuck training as a meister. You might not be such a disappointment. No, you might be something to be proud of for once.

You and Dave enter your apartment and you need to bring it up. “Dave, we need to talk about that thing you do. Summoning yourself, or whatever the fuck that is?”

“No, dude it’s just... a thing I learned.” He’s cagey. He takes off his shoes and walks into the main room. You follow without taking off your boots.

“Well, teach it to me.”

“You wouldn’t get anything out of it. Besides, it’s not an easy thing to learn.”

“I’m smart, I can handle it.”

“Yeah, you are smart, but you’re not a weapon, dumbass.”

You hesitate. Your lip stiffens. “Well maybe I fucking am. Teach me.”

“What the fuck, really? Dude you’ve been holding out. What are you? Are you like, a sickle? Like your brother? Or like, your dad’s a scythe right? Why aren’t you in weapon’s training then?” He’s immediately less cagey. You’re immediately more cagey.

“Shut up for five seconds and I might tell you!” You’ve got your arms crossed, glaring like anything might help. Dave shuts up, to his credit. You take a deep breath, and an equally deep sigh. “I’m a shield. I’m practically useless for anything but defense, and you can’t defend kishin eggs to death.”

Dave smiles. “Can I see?”

“No.”

“Come on dude, why not.”

“Because it’s not necessary, and it’s not a big deal. I’m still your _meister_.” You emphasize the last word.

Dave is silent for a moment before a wave of recognition hits. Now he gets it. His face is back to being serious. “I still can’t teach you.”

“Why not?!” You don’t mean to sound like you’re having a temper tantrum, it just comes out that way.

“Because I don’t hate you? Trust me, you’re better off.”

“I’ll fucking tell you when I’m better off. You have no idea what that could mean for me!”

“I do, and I’m not doing it.” He's serious for once, the one time you need him not to be. He's being selfish.

You grunt with irritation, brushing past him towards your room. “Fine, don’t fucking teach me, see if I care.”

You don’t see his face after you close the door to your room, but the silence behind you is present and telling. There’s a part of you that feels bad for yelling at him, but another part of you yelling over that feeling, saying that he deserves it. He doesn’t understand how hard it is for you, dealing with all this expectation. You have so much to live up to, so much history and pressure weighing down on you to succeed. Your brother just became a death scythe. Your father is Death's personal weapon. You have a long line of holy weapons before you bearing down the weight of the world and it would all go away if you could just do this one fucking thing.

You slide down the back of your door and cry into your knees. You don’t know what else you can do, at this point. Your solution is standing behind you and he won’t help. You’re figuring it out by yourself, again. You’re on your own, again. You just want people to stop letting you down. You want to stop disappointing people. You’re afraid of failing. You already lost Terezi.

At this point, you know she’s not coming back. You’ve always known somewhere in your head, you just tried to convince yourself otherwise. You cry harder. You’re trying not to sob too loudly, just in case Dave is still outside. He probably thinks you’re being over dramatic.

You want someone to comfort you. You want some support for once.


	10. Dreams Can’t Hurt You- Why Do They Feel Real?

You’re in a room. The room is lit with harsh blue light and dimmed by the dark blue curtains hanging between them. When you pay attention, the room is a finished circle, but at the corners of your vision, it fades into nothing. 

You’re sitting in an ornate chair from what you can see. It’s cushioned with velvet and carved from polished, almost obsidian wood.

You sit, paralyzed in your chair, waiting, spikes in your hands and feet. They don’t hurt. You’re not pinned by your spikes. You feel like you’re waiting. You’re waiting, and waiting, and waiting. You feel like you’ve been waiting for months here in this room, and yet you know no time has passed at all. It doesn’t pass in this room. You’re stuck, trapped in a moment that doesn’t exist, and will never exist. 

A record player starts to play. You don’t recognize the music, but it’s sad, and poorly performed. You feel like it’s bad enough to defy genre. Somehow, you don’t mind it. You can’t find it within you to mind anything at all. 

When you see the puppet enter, it’s hard to work up the nerve to care about it. You feel empty, sluggish, and you recognize now that your inability to move was less of a forced action than an act of apathetic passivity. You still can’t find it in you to move when the puppet speaks. 

“Do you hear the music? It’s lovely.”

You know you should have an opinion, but you don’t. 

“You must love it, you’ve been listening to it for hours now.”

You feel like you hate it, but hating things is a lot of work. You don’t have the energy to hate things. The puppet’s mouth clacks, and you know it’s laughing.

“Are you so tired that you can’t speak to me? I’m such an old friend of yours. You must make time for me, of all things.”

He says things, and not people. He’s right, he’s a puppet, and yet you feel something tug in you. You recognize a feeling, and grasp out to feel it. It’s sadness. “You’re not a thing.”

“David, we’re both things. You’re made of meat and I’m made of wood, it doesn’t make any difference to me.” The puppet sways, and it’s now you notice the strings connecting it up. You would move your head to check who’s pulling them, but you still can’t move. 

“I’m not a thing either.” You can’t finish your defense. The puppet’s mouth clacks again, laughing with a wooden hollowness you hope you’ll never match.

“Everything is a thing. That’s why they’re called every _ thing _ ’s. You wouldn’t call a tree a bush, would you?”

“I’m not a bush, either.”

“Then what do you think you are? You’re certainly not a human. Humans make decisions, have lives, have families. What have you ever done that was human?”

You’re struggling to come up with anything. The puppet takes your silence as an answer.

“That’s right. You’re just like me. Why are you fighting me so much?” He sways, and slips, like the person controlling him lost his grip. You’re not sure if the puppet is addressing you or if the puppetmaster is. You don’t have an answer for him. You don’t know why you’re disobeying him. Them. Both of them. 

In this moment, you can’t remember what your present is. You can’t remember what you’re supposed to be doing, or where you live, who you know or how you’ve been doing. You live in this room, you know this puppet, you exist in a state of nothingness, and you’re supposed to be doing what you’re told. Your brain tugs up, and your limbs finally obey. You stand up from your chair.

The room shifts harshly and you’re no longer in control of your body. It’s still moving, and there’s a blinding brightness swallowing you whole. The spikes in your hands haven’t left as they pull you through the light. You land on a throat, fingers clenching into a windpipe, and you can’t recognize who you’re holding through the thick light. Your eyes adjust as you stand there, trapped in this position. You’re strangling Karkat. 

You wake up. You're crying. You’ll have this dream again tomorrow, like you’ve done every other night this month. 


	11. Restoring Order- How far would you go?

Today your mission is relatively simple. An entire coastal town has managed to go missing, and it’s up to you and Sollux to find out what happened to it. Easy enough. You’re both more than competent enough to handle this.

You look over at Sollux, who is sitting in the dinghy you brought watching tetris blocks float into a solid line, not even bothering to place them, completely zoned out. 

Ok, you’re competent enough to handle this. Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you have an errand to run. 

You can’t stand the amount of humidity in the air around here, almost sweltering along with the normal salty quality ocean air has. You’re wearing your cloak and mask. Sollux can’t see your eyes judging him from behind the ostentatious skull. You stand up, and the boat bobs for a second before settling. You put a foot up on the bow of the dinghy and stare into the distance. 

“I don’t fuckin’ get it. There’s supposed to be an irregular amount’a souls right fuckin’ here, so where the fuck are they.” You turn to look at Sollux from your position, and your cloak whips into his face. You immediately burst out laughing. 

“Fuck! I could’ve dropped my phone you douche!” He protectively shoves it into the pocket of his sweatpants and finally stands up beside you, stepping on your cloak out of spite.

“Good, you don’t have time to play on that fuckin’ thing anyway.” You turn back to the ocean, nursing your now dirty cloak. Fucking disgusting. He flips you off and helps you look for where the souls have gone. 

It takes a minute before you can really see anything, as there’s a heavy mist rolling over the ocean. Then you look down. There’s a ship laying on the ocean floor right beneath you. That doesn’t make sense. Souls that old would be gone by now. You only have another few seconds to ponder why this happened before the ship begins to rise. 

“Sollux!” You hold out your hand and he nods, a flash of light passing before he lands as a solid weight in your hands. You only have another few seconds before the ship beneath you slams into your dinghy. You leap in time for the impact to be negligible, and land on top of the deck, the dinghy floating off in the waves. Great. You’re so glad you brought your hoverboard. 

The deck is wet, which is hell on your shoes. You think you love the ocean until you’re actually surrounded by it, but then it sucks hard and you want to go home. You do have a job to do, however. You don’t see any souls on deck, and the ship looks like it’s stabilizing on the water. Looking closer, the wood of the ship seems to be glowing a light blue. You wander around the mast to see what the structural integrity is. For all intents and purposes the ship looks completely functional, no signs of water tension on the top whatsoever. 

Sollux groans.  _ Are you really going to spend the next hour walking around a boat? _

“I know you don’t fuckin’ care about nautical shit Sollux, but even you should be aware’a how fuckin’ weird this is. This ship looks like it could still sail.” You rest Sollux's barrel against your shoulder more casually and try to find an easy way down below deck. 

_ What about the hull dipshit. A boat like this isn’t gonna stay up very long if there’s holes in the bottom.  _ You can practically hear Sollux rolling his eyes. Before you can say anything, a voice comes from behind you. You turn around and aim Sollux at the voice.

“It’s a ship!” There’s a woman behind the wheel, glaring at the two of you. “The flying dutchman is no mere boat.”

You’re very confused, but also know your goddamn manners. You remove your mask, shrink it into your little broach, and let your hood slip off your head. You lower your gun slightly. “Our apologies. Is this your vessel?”

“Damn fucking right it is. Better question is, what are you doing on it?” She glares, hand on the wheel, hook balanced on her hip. A tacky pirate. Aren’t you so lucky. 

“Investigating. Would you happen to know where I could find a couple hundred lost souls by chance?” Your patience is wearing thin, but so is hers. 

“In my hull, yeah. You got a problem with that?”

“I do.” You level your gun again.

“I found those souls loitering on that cliffside fair and square!”

“They lived there you daft fuck!” 

“And now they live here! Lucky you, you get to join them!” The ship swallows you, and you black out.

 

You wake up to being dragged across the wet floor. The wet, disgusting, slimy floor. The entire place smells of mold and sea water. You get a second to get your faculties together before rolling out of the hold they have on you. You ready a stance before you notice who’s been dragging you. 

“Nice going dipshit, we’ve been stuck down here for a fucking hour. Did you enjoy your beauty rest? Because I’ve been busy trying to get us out.” Immediate criticism from Sollux. He’s taken off his hoodie and tied it around his waist. He must’ve been carrying you around that whole time. 

“Oh no, poor Sol. Manual labor? Your tiny muscles must be dying.” You get out of your stance and he frowns. He waits. You don’t know what he’s waiting for. He beckons with his hand. 

“Where’s the gratitude? No “Thank you Sollux for trying to get us out of this ghosty pirate ship”? Nothing?” 

“Thank you Sollux, for draggin’ me around for an hour fruitlessly. I appreciate the fact that you covered me in the floor residue. Let’s keep goin’.” You walk past him and hear him make a noise of frustration before following. You can feel the massive presence of souls right next to you, but the increasing lack of doors makes you frustrated. The smell of wet wood and mold makes you even more frustrated. This place is foul. You walk for a solid five minutes before yelling in frustration. “Where the fuck are we! I can’t stand this smell anymore!” 

“We’re in the lower levels of the ship, dumbfuck.” You knew that already. He walks ahead of you, notices something, then breaks into a run. “Holyshit, look!”

You chase after him, eventually coming to the end of the hall. There are still no doors, but Sollux is leaning against the wall. 

“Can you hear them?”

“No. Can you?” 

“Seriously? Haha, eat shit, I can do something you can’t. These motherfuckers are all whining about how dead they are.”

“That’s very sensitive of you Sol, now stand back so I can break the fuckin’ wall down.” He backs off from the wall, and you offer out your hand. He transforms into it. You activate soul resonance, white smoke pouring off from the streak in your hair as your eyes roll white. Sollux's form expands to encompass your arms, over your shoulder. You take a knee and shoot. The wall is blasted down with a single shot. 

You power back down and walk through the hole. Hundreds of souls float aimlessly inside the room.  _ Well, now they’re all crying because they think they’re going to be attacked, so good job on the diplomacy Eridan. _

“Shut up Captor.” You mill through them trying to find a door up to the deck, and eventually find a trapdoor in the ceiling. You jump to tug it down, sling Sollux over your shoulder, and jump through it. You’re in the captain's quarters. “What do they need all these fuckin’ souls for anyway. Who disturbed this ghost enough for them to do this?”

_ Your guess is as good as mine. Something tells me this didn’t happen in a vacuum though.  _ He has a point. Ghosts don’t appear unless their burial place is disturbed. Who’s bugging ghosts in the ocean? And why did they point them at that coastal town? You glare at the door leading to the deck. You’re going to go find out. 

You get up and head to the door, kicking it off its hinges and taking aim. You’re gonna shoot that fucking ghost in it’s dumb fucking face and it’s going to take it like the bitch it is. You walk out onto the deck, and hear a giggle. Behind you on the deck, the ghost lays prone. On top of her, a witch. Her dress poofs into fine rounded points, with a tight corset emphasizing her curves. The whole thing is slathered in spider webs, including her hat, which curls in on itself on one side. Her hair is cut in a low bob. It bounces with her haughty laughter. There’s no hesitation before you shoot at her. 

“Oh! What a vicious reaper. Have you come to collect my souls little one?” She dodges like it’s nothing, which it definitely isn’t. Your aim is nothing to scoff at. She delicately floats onto the banister of the upper deck. 

_ What is with you people and thinking souls belong to you! Get the fuck over yourselves.  _ Sollux has a point, for once. 

“I earned them. It’s alright, you’ll learn how the world works. I’d be more than happy to teach you!  _ Spinnerette Spinner Spun. _ ” Her hand shoots a thick web in your direction, which you dodge, leaping into the air and taking aim again. You straighten your leg and lift your elbows into your Reaper’s Execution stance. The line of electricity fires with a thick line of white smoke that almost hits her dead on through the eyes. She steps aside fast enough that it singes her hair, making most of it stand up under her hat. She frowns. “You’re poor students.”

You land back on the deck. “That’s fair, we only started school last week.”

“Sounds like you need a tutor. There’s not much I can teach a reaper, but I’m sure your weapon could really use the help.  _ Spinnerette Spinner Spun! _ ”

This time, a flash of webbing crosses her face, and for a moment it lights up the space around you in a bright blue. She launches a thin web that latches onto Sollux's barrel before you can think to move it. She tugs, and he transforms as he leaves your hands. You tried to tug him back, but he was intangible before you could get a good grip. He stands with his back to you on the deck. 

“I’m only happy to help. Unfortunately, I prefer doing the work myself.” She snaps off the web, and Sollux turns to face you. His forehead has a small circle of webbing, and his eyes are lost. Disarmed, you step into a different stance. You need to be defensive until you can find a way to defeat her and fix Sollux. 

She lifts a hand to her temple, and Sollux rushes forward, electricity crackling in his hands. You duck under his hand and sweep under his leg, knocking him onto his knees as you book it towards the witch. She takes another delicate leap upward before sitting on the cross of the main mast, waiting and watching.

You feel a strong current run through your back. For a mortal, that might have been it, but for you, you take the hit like a champ. You spin around, grabbing his wrists. You glare up at the witch, who’s smiling down at the two of you. 

“His brain is a very interesting place. I’m learning quite a bit, digging around in here.” You look back down at Sollux and the webbing on his forehead. He’s struggling in your grasp, but he’s always been a weakling. You need to get that circle off. 

“He’s panicking quite a bit, you know. He doesn’t want to hurt you, the poor thing.” She’s swishing her legs in the air, watching. You take your chances. You remove your hands from his wrists and take a hold of the back of his head, using two of your fingers on the other hand to try and peel off the circle. It doesn’t work. Sollux’s hands clap around your ribs and send another wave of electricity through them. Your breathing stilts, and you can smell the smoke emanating from you. He doesn’t stop. You know he can’t control his power this long. Your brain feels fuzzy. She must be enhancing him somehow. You feel something dim. As a last ditch effort, you send a shot of your soul through the webbing. Suddenly, the electricity stops, and Sollux slumps to the floor. You have a moment to collect yourself before you look back up at the witch. She’s gone. You would swear if you could feel your tongue. 

The presence of souls shifts, and then dramatically exits all at once. You feel sick. The ship shifts and starts to lower back into the ocean. You have a moment to think. You take Sollux over your shoulder, slip your hoverboard off of your back, and get the fuck out of there. You don’t know how badly you fucked Sollux up to get him back to you. You hope to hell and back that it’s not serious. You refuse to get another weapon. You worked hard to get this one, and even if he’s a pain in the ass, you’re responsible for him. You shift him on you until you’re carrying him on your back. 

You feel like you understand why father started burning witches.


	12. Remembering- How did you fuck up?

You wake up, and the world is blurry and bright. You can smell antiseptic and clean linens. Where are you? 

You sit up slightly and your head pounds, swimming. You can see a little better now after blinking back sleep from your eyes, but you’re no less confused. There’s someone sleeping at the end of your bed. You have curtains surrounding you. 

You think you’re Sollux Captor, but you’re not really sure?

The boy at the end of your bed turns his head, also waking up, and you recognize him. The shock of white going through his hair and the skewed glasses are a definite clue. It takes another minute before you can put a name to him. Eridan. You reach a hand out to his confused face and pap your hand against his cheek. Right, he’s important. He looks surprised but you don’t know why. You feel like your brain is scrambled. You must look pretty fucking dumb. 

Eridan almost looks like he’s about to cry before his lower lip hardens. He pulls your hand off his cheek and sets it on the bed. You remember now. You’re not that close. He’s your boss. You had a job to do, right? 

“Did we do that thing?” You can’t be specific, because you don’t know, but you figure any question directed at him will distract you from that distressed, pitying look in his eyes. 

“No. The souls are gone. The witch is gone. Are you okay? You’re not hurtin’ or anythin’, right?”

“My head feels like someone went ham with a nail gun, but otherwise I’m dandy as shit.” You pat your hand over his hand, the one holding yours down. Your head really, really fucking hurts. You fought a witch? That sounds cool. “What time is it?”

“It’s Saturday afternoon’. You were out all night.” 

“Oh damn. So we skipped school? Fucking legit.”

“Fuckin’ hell Sollux, is that really what’s important right now?”

“Absolutely. School can eat my dick.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Eridan pulls his hand out from your grasp, like an asshole. 

The curtain surrounding you pulls open to reveal a very, very pretty nurse. She has bright, big eyes, and long, silky, peach hair. She wears glasses, and the cutest goddamn pink turtleneck you’ve ever seen. Eridan wore a turtleneck once, and he just looked like a fucking nerd. She pulls it off. You would let her nurse you back to health anyday. Well, you guess today works too. “Shell-o boys! I’m so happy to see you’re awake!” 

Eridan leans back in his chair. Clearly, he also sees she’s hot. If there’s one thing you have in common, it’s how useless you are around pretty girls. “Haha, thanks. I’m Sollux.”

“I know that silly! It’s on your chart!” She blows a raspberry at you, standing on the other side of the bed from Eridan. “How’s your head doing? Taking a shot of concentrated soul like that is  _ not _ an easy thing to cope with!”

What the fuck? What happened? You look at Eridan like he’ll have answers, but he just looks like he’s about to throw up. Stop focusing on the pretty nurse, Eridan, and communicate to your goddamn partner through increasingly complicated subtle body language! He’s so useless. 

“I mean my head is fucking killing me, and I barely remember anything from yesterday, or like, y’know basic other shit that obviously I can’t bring up because I can’t remember it. Otherwise it’s not the end of the world or whatever. I’m still breathing, I haven’t shit myself. I’m assuming my legs are still working.” You flail a leg to demonstrate your point, if somewhat lethargically. Wait, did you just insinuate you might shit yourself in front of a cute girl? FUCK. 

She laughs, and it’s so bubbly you think she might be made of the damn things. You nervously chuckle. Yep, you meant all of that as a joke. That’s not just how you speak. Eridan gives you a guilty look. 

“I’ll be back later.” He stands up from his seat, pushing it back with his foot. He looks at the nurse. “Take care’a him yeah? I’m not lookin’ to find another weapon.”

“Of course, I’ll do my very best to kelp.” She nods, pulling a serious face and saluting. The face doesn’t last long, as she starts beaming again directly after. 

Eridan just looks away, not giving you another word before exiting through the curtain. He must really hate this nurse.

“So, scale of one to ten, how bad is your headache right now?” She flips around her clipboard and shows you a scale of faces. You point to number 7, the face that looks like it’s about to break out sobbing but is stuck in the middle of an important social situation. She frowns. “Whale that’s no good. We’d better put you on some pain meds. Your chart shows me you have no allergies? Is this still true?” 

Is it? You think you don’t have any. Wait, nope. You got stung by a bee last month with Eridan, and your whole arm swelled up. You realize you’re giggling to yourself at the memory of smacking Eridan with your swollen arm and not answering. “No, uh. I’m allergic to bees.” 

“Alright, thank you. I’ll update your chart and be right back with those meds.” She exits the curtain, and you’re left with your thoughts. You can’t remember your mission yesterday even when you focus on it, which is ridiculous considering how easy everything else came back. 

You hear the door to the infirmary open and hear a familiar voice. Feferi directs him over to a chair that you can see from your bed. It’s Dave. 

“Hey, Strider.” He looks startled, like he didn’t see you. “What are you in for?”

“She needs to take the stitches out today.” You can tell he’s tentative around you. You aren’t exactly comfortable talking to a serial murderer’s son either, but you’ve also been abandoned by your meister to stew in boredom. It’s not like you two are total strangers either. You did help get him out. 

“Damn, from that courtyard fight?” You only vaguely heard of it. 

“Yeah.” He’s quiet for a moment, then slips into your section of the room, scooting the chair Eridan was in closer to you. It seems urgent. “Hey, um. Have you heard from Karkat at all?”

“Uh, no. He’s your roommate dude, why are you asking me?”

“He’s not talking to me. I think he’s mad.”

“Why would he be mad at you?” 

His face hardens at this, his uneasy tension slipping into unreadable calm. “Doesn’t matter. Did he tell you about it?”

“Fuck no, we don’t have a feelings jam every time someone forgets to screw on the pickle lid straight.” 

“He was really upset. Are you sure?”

Wait, are you sure? You can’t exactly remember the last few days. You take it into consideration and go looking for your phone. You find it on the side table, going through your messages. Karkat, has in fact, blown up your phone, back on his angry tirade about Dave. He’s asking about where Dave came from, how come it’s such a big secret, and why everyone knows but him. You thought he got over that. You text him an ok hand symbol and a “2ound2 cool”, then drop your phone into your lap. “Nevermind, he’s mad.” 

Dave runs a hand down his face with a groan. “Did he say anything about me? Is he looking for a new partner?”

“No, but he’s fucking pissed about something. You didn’t tell him anything did you?”

“I mean. Not a lot.”

“What the fuck Dave! You know what Death told us.”

“I know, but Karkat was upset about Terezi and he wanted advice and I thought he might want to know. And fuckin’, everyone’s always going on about how honesty is important to partnerships or whatever. I know I’m new to this shit but shouldn’t I be able to tell him stuff?” He’s  _ pouting _ . He’s really invested, huh. 

“If you tell Karkat, he’s going to tell someone else, inevitably. He’s a blabbermouth. He can’t help but tell people what’s on his mind. Have you ever seen him try to keep an important secret?” 

“No.”

“Exactly. But you’ve seen him and Terezi right? Big fucking secret that whole thing is. She’s known for years now, because Karkat is pisspoor at keeping his emotions to himself.” He looks away from you, crossing his arms and directing his pout at the floor. 

“I know this is temporary. I know I’m supposed to be on fuckin’, parole or whatever until you all clarify I’m not some kind of monster, but what I don’t understand is how the fuck I’m supposed to operate as a non-person. Karkat is already mad I won’t tell him anything.” 

“I’m not in charge of you. All I know is that Karkat is my friend, and that if you hurt him, I’m going to feed your feet to you through your asshole.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Good. Now prove that to Death. He seems to think you need some rehabilitation or some shit, so show him how goddamn rehabilitated you are.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know, don’t murder anyone?”

“Haha, very fucking funny.” He kicks the floor with his foot. 

“...You didn’t actually, did you?”

You can’t see his eyes behind his shades, but you feel the look he gives you. Your heart clenches. He doesn’t answer.

There’s a moment of silence before Feferi comes back, holding a tray with water, pills and pudding. You try to snap out of the mild horror you sat in seconds ago. 

“O-cray boys, that’s enough of that.” She sets down the tray in front of you. “Dave, into the other chair again please?”

He nods, standing up and walking into the next room. You quickly pop the pills into your mouth and chug half the glass. Feferi exits the curtains after Dave, and shuts them all the way. 

You don’t know how to feel about him. You feel your phone vibrate in your lap. It’s another text from Karkat, a long tirade about how he deserves the right to know. You look at the curtain between you and Dave. You can hear him hiss through his teeth behind the curtain, and the snip of scissors. 

 

TA: ii’ll tell you, but for once iin your fuckiing liife, be dii2crete. 

CG: OH, SO YOU FINALLY DEIGN TO TELL ME? PARDON ME WHILE I POSITION MY GROVELLING BODY INTO A PROPER FOOTSTOOL FOR YOU, YOUR HIGHNESS. 

TA: you’d better, ii’m layiing my a22 on the liine for you by doiing thii2. at lea2t two diifferent reaper2 would lo2e theiir miind2 iif they found out about thii2. 

CG: I THINK I CAN LIVE WITH THAT. 

CG: WHERE THE FUCK DID DAVE COME FROM. 

TA: diid you ever hear about that ca2e of un2olved murder2 a few year2 back iin texa2? 

TA: the one’2 wiith the fucked up bodiie2 and the 2urviivor2 wanderiing around wiithout 2oul2?

TA: they called hiim the puppetma2ter. 

CG: YEAH. I REMEMBER. DEATH WAS TENSE AS FUCK.

TA: well, ii wa2 a part of a bu2t on hii2 hiideout liike, a month ago. 

TA: we got both of them. 

CG: BOTH OF THEM. INCLUDING DAVE?

TA: yeah. ii don’t know how iinvolved he wa2, or iif he wa2 another viictiim, or what. what ii do know ii2 that dave wa2 completely out of hii2 miind when we found him. liiterally. he wa2 barely a per2on. 

CG: HOLY SHIT.

TA: he only 2tarted talkiing two u2 on the way out. niitram wa2 tryiing to talk to hiim back iin the cell, a2king him who he wa2, how we could help. the only thiing dave could get out wa2 “nobody”. a2 2oon a2 we left the buiildiing, he kept a2kiing about the puppet2, telliing u2 that they were goiing two fiind u2 and drag u2 back. 

TA: we diidn’t fiind any puppet2 man. 

CG: SO

CG: HOLY SHIT. OH FUCK. SOLLUX. 

CG: SOLLUX I REALLY MESSED UP. 

TA: diid you? 

CG: I’LL TEXT YOU LATER, I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. 

TA: you better not be goiing out to blab all thii2 2hiit. we don’t know iif we can tru2t dave yet, but we don’t want a fuckiing wiitch hunt on hii2 a22. 

CG: NO, FUCK NO, NEVER. 

CG: THANKS FOR TELLING ME. 

TA: there’2 the gratiitude. 

 

Feferi pulls open the curtain again, pouting her pretty lips at you. Dave is gone. “Why aren’t you eating your pudding? You don’t like chocolate?” 

“Oh sorry, no, I do. I just got distracted.” You don’t like chocolate, but liking chocolate is suddenly very important to you.

“Whale put down that phone! It’s bad for your headache. We can do a puzzle if you need something to keep you busy.”  You are so down for puzzles. You nod, putting down your phone and opening up your pudding cup. God, you fucking love chocolate.


	13. Internal Critique- How to regain perspective?

You haven’t moved since you stopped texting Sollux, even though you fully intended to. You can’t force yourself to move your feet. You’ve been standing like a fucking moron in the middle of your kitchen for a solid fifteen minutes. You think it’s the tsunami of self-hatred pouring over you, crashing into your face so hard that moving against it might feel like dying. It already feels like your chest is tearing itself to pieces. 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re an irredeemably bad person.

Dave has to be coming back from his appointment soon, and that’s the only thing that gets you twitching back into action. You walk over to the front door to put on your boots, before realizing that your idea of meeting him out in public, making a grand gesture and grovelling at his feet, is the sort of thing he would detest. You stop in your tracks. You’re so fucking stupid. Leaving your shoes on, you walk back into the apartment and pace for a second.

You’re not prepared for this. Anything you say now is probably going to make the situation worse, in fact. You’re so bad at talking to people, and reading the room, and being conscious of other people's feelings and baggage, and making sure they’re ok before you go the fuck off on them for literally no fucking reason. You don’t need to know all his secrets. Why do you have to pry so much, you subhuman fuckwit? 

Either way, you know he won’t want to see your face after this. You wipe away the hot tracks of tears now running down your face as you try to think of a solution. For some reason, your first thought is the bathroom. You’ll just sit in the tub until he decides to leave the apartment again, and then you’ll have so much time to think about the horrible things you’ve done, you won’t know what to do with it. Your boots carry you into the bathroom, the untied weights sloshing around on your too small feet. You barely pay attention as you close the door and sit in the tub. Fully clothed. Sobbing into your fists like the vicious coward you are. 

Apparently it was just in time too. You hear the door open and Dave shuffle through the main entryway. As usual, he’s quiet, and the moment he stops interacting with anything, he moves without a trace through your apartment. You wonder if the man who raised him taught him how to do that. You wonder if you’ve helped at all, being as loud and obnoxious as you are. You cover your mouth with a fist full of fabric as more guilt pours over you, choking down another involuntary sob. You can barely breathe, throat tight and burning. Your chest is moving a mile a minute and you feel like screaming, and yet the only sounds you seem to be able to make are pathetic and crushing to your own ears. Your stomach hurts from all the punishment your diaphragm is taking. You deserve to feel like this. 

Unlike Dave, apparently you aren’t so quiet. You knew this about yourself, and yet, somehow, you’re still disappointed with this outcome. Just another way you’ve managed to fuck up. The bathroom door is ajar, and Dave knocks gently on the door frame. You attempt to silence yourself again with minimal effect. Talking is out of the question. He has to go before you fuck up again.

“Karkat, are you ok in there?” He’s not coming in, out of politeness or anxiety you don’t know, but you don’t want him to see you like this. His voice sounds slightly monotonous, which is never good. 

You think you should’ve started the tap, at least that would muffle some of the noise you’re making. You don’t make a very trustworthy case when you beg. “Please don’t come in.”

“I’m not gonna. You don’t sound ok.” Neither does he, but you don’t point that out. You can’t insult him again. You turn on the tap in the tub and get your boots wet. You’re glad something is trying to be as loud as you now. You can’t take yourself seriously, throwing another temper tantrum like this. It’s another stab to your dwindling ego when you remember that functional human beings try to make up for their mistakes instead of throwing a fit about it like you are now.

“I’m sorry.” You sound broken, and you aren’t even sure he can hear it over the water. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“I didn’t-” Your voice makes an embarrassing break in the middle of your sentence and tugs you violently into another sobbing fit. You can’t even apologize right. You just want to dissolve into this tub, never to be seen again. “I didn’t know, and, I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you, and-” 

This is apparently the last straw for Dave. He opens the door the rest of the way to check on you and apparently, is horrified by what he sees. Rightfully so, you think, you’ve always been a disgusting crier. He’s almost frozen in place at the sight of you. You take a moment to think of all the things he must have seen before moving in to live with you. You take another moment to think about how you probably weren’t much better. Your last moment to think comes in the form of absolute disgrace as you remember how much you don’t want him to see you crying in the first place. 

You tug your knees up to your chest and slam your face on top of them so fast that there’s a considerable delay before your arms reach around to hug them to you. You don’t look at him. You can’t. Even seeing half of his face is enough to know that you make him sick. You don’t blame him. You make yourself sick too. 

There’s a gap where for a few minutes, nothing happens. Dave stands there gawking at what an objectively awful scene this is and you spend it all wondering when he’s going to finally leave. Instead, he reaches out to hug you, and your brain stops.

“So, who told you.”

Sniffle. “Sollux.”

“About fucking time. I wanted to, too. I just, didn’t want to be kicked out, or, put back in solitary confinement or whatever. I’m tired of being alone.” He squeezes you gently, and you try not to let the new rush of tears you feel running down your face impose any new thoughts.

“You deserve better company. I treat you like hot garbage, Dave, I’ve been treating you like shit the whole time we’ve known each other and you just took it and I didn’t know-”

“Karkat. Shh. You’re fine. We’re fine. I’ve been through worse.”

“That doesn’t make how I’ve been treating you any better.” You lean away and lift your head, pushing him off of you and leaning against the back of the tub. “I don’t get a fucking metal for not being the biggest asshole in the universe.”

“Yeah but like, I don’t think you should be fucking strung up for not being perfect, either.” He rests his elbows on the side of the tub, looking put off. Like he doesn’t understand why you rejected his hug. Like he’s upset at you for implying you’re exactly what you are. 

“If I’m not hard on myself, who the fuck will be. Why does it matter anyway? I hurt you. You shouldn’t be doing this right now.” 

“I’m doing this because you shouldn’t be apologizing. You’re so fuckin’ mean to yourself, and no offense, but you didn’t do anything to earn that kind of abuse.” Some of his emotion is returning to his voice, and you’re partially freaked out by how much anger is in it. Why is he getting mad at you? You’re trying to keep people from getting mad at you. 

“Yes, I did! I’m disappointing everyone I know everyday by existing in continual irrelevance. I can see it in their fucking faces, every time we talk, the crawling boredom of being subjected to me, the fucking irritation of having to sit through another conversation, the pity in their eyes when they know I’m not going to live up to any expectations people have for me. because guess the fuck what? I’m a failure on every conceivable level! I’m a human rejection! I can’t imagine what sort of cosmic joke someone was setting up when they created me, but guess who managed to fuck up even THAT punchline!?” You don’t register that your tone is getting louder until the hysterical fever pitch breaks on your last word. The new, bitter tears come carving a path through the lines of your old tear tracks. Your throat is raw. 

Dave looks absolutely heartbroken. He curls his hands into little fists before forcing you into another hug, pulling you in by the shoulders and refusing to let go. You don’t think you have the energy to anyway. You mumble more apologies into his shoulder. He’s shaking his head beside yours. “Karkat. Fucking Death you have no idea do you?”

You don’t respond. You wait for more confirmation, sniffling into his shoulder and clinging to the sides of his jacket. You feel like he could crush you into pieces with a few sentences.

“You mean a lot, to everyone. I don’t think we’ve talked to anyone that didn’t at least like you, if not enjoy you outright. Like, fuck dude, even hanging around me, people just, want to spend time with you. I think the only thing stopping you from doin’ the shit you want to do is you.”

“I know.” You sound fucking pathetic. “I’m such a fucking dipshit.”

“No, dude, fuck. I mean, it’s shit like that, when you put yourself down and tell yourself that everyone hates you. You’ve been so fuckin’ nasty to yourself the whole time I’ve known you. You do realize you’re like, top five in our class, right? And that you’re really good with words’n’shit? And, people like listening to you. They like being around you. You just gotta work on pushing them away less.” He gives you another squeeze, holding you close and pressing his face into your neck. You get the impression that you won’t be able to slip out this time. You kind of don’t want to. “I’m not letting go until you tell me you’re going to be nicer to yourself.” 

You stall. You don’t know if you want to be nice to yourself. What have you done to earn it? There’s no checklist for being a better person. Some people are just good, and some of them are bad, and you’re just a bad person. Every act you do towards being better is only painting over imperfection. Every bump and tear and hole is just as noticeable, if not more. You grip his jacket harder. “I’ll try but I’m not making any fucking promises.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll just keep shoving good bits about you in your face until you figure it out.” He ruffles your hair. “You wanna get out of the tub?” 

You nod. He half hoists you up from under your arms, lifts you over the rim and places you on the ground in front of him. He laughs, looking down at the short distance between the two of you. “Why are you wearing your boots in the tub?”

“I don’t fucking know, I make bad decisions when my brain is imploding.” You slip out of his hands to shut off the tap. 

“You wanna wash off your face? I’ll order dinner or something.” 

You nod, letting out a little huff of air. He gives you a little salute and turns to leave the room. You let the words fall out of your mouth before you get a chance to mull them over in your head. 

“Hey, Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. Thanks for, y’know. This.”

“You’d do it for me, yeah? I’m just returning the favor.” He leaves before you can get another word in. One look at the mirror tells you everything you need to know about how much of a saint Dave must be, because you look terrible. 

You hope he doesn’t realize it anytime soon. You don’t want to be alone anymore.


	14. Holy Weapon Excalibur - Is There An Easy Way Out?

Your name is Vriska Serket, and you don’t need to reflect on why you’re so fucking angry today.

Unlike the rest of the chumps you know, that happens to be one of your strengths. You don’t wallow. You refuse to let yourself stew in the tragedy of your own existence, no matter how betrayed you might feel in the current moment. Who cares if your partner tried to confront you about your team dynamic in front of your tutor? You thought Terezi could handle you, but apparently, the only one who can keep up with the level of intensity you churn out is yourself. You have enough irons in the fire to keep a blacksmith in business for centuries, and you don’t plan on letting some weakling stoke those fires for you. Not if they’re going to cry when they get a little singed.

Anyway, that’s why you’re looking for a new partner. Again.

You aren’t doing it in a very concrete way, like putting up an ad on the school bulletin board. No, you’re going to let the narrative flow of the universe select a new partner for you. It worked last time. Terezi practically stepped over Tavros’s limp little body to work with you. Clearly, your presence is in high demand. It shouldn’t be very long until word of your argument with Terezi spreads, and then everyone in the school will clamour to get your attention.

You haven’t told Terezi that you’re replacing her just yet. You think she’ll get the hint when you show up to class with your super cool new partner in tow. Then when you and your partner plow through the competition without hesitation, not bothering to focus on the past or about petty things like “limitations”, she’ll cry, and beg for you to take her back. Of course, you won’t, because you have a new partner now. One who doesn’t demand couples counselling when they start hyperfocusing on your well being.

You get about an hour into your bitter search around the school when you’re confronted with the reality of how badly this is going so far. You haven’t been paying attention to your surroundings and end up wedged in the back of the library, surrounded by high, cascading shelves of old dusty books. You figure you should at least find a rooftop to search/brood on, and you head back through the maze of shelves behind you.

The last thing you expect to find is Eridan sitting cross legged on the floor, in a pile of books all opened to different pages, with his nose wedged in the middle of a massive white tome. As the good friend you are, you slowly sneak over and shove the book into his face.

He flounders for a moment, adjusting his glasses back and glaring at you over the rims. “Do you always gotta be such a pain in the ass?”

“Nope, but I do make it a habit to practice when I can.” You smirk down at him. He must have been pretty invested in that book not to notice you approach, not to undercut your skill. “Looks like you’re over your head in nerdland, Ampora. Ever plan on coming up for air with the rest of us or…?”

“I’ll have you know I’m doin’ some important research here. Don’t you have some NOT students to shake down?”

You brush it off. If he thinks his lame comments are going to phase you, he’s got another thing coming. You still remember that night in the office, and the spite in your veins is telling you to get him back for everything he said about you. It seems like everyone’s on the hook today, and you’re not in the mood to catch and release.

“Why don’t you let me help, Ampora? I’m sure whatever dork project of the month you’re on could benefit from a second pair of hands.”

He squints, like he’s appraising your offer He clasps the book shut in his hands and moves to stand, tucking it under his arm. “Fine, but if you try to sabotage this like the last time you “helped”, I’m gonna shave your fuckin’ head.”

Your look of indignation is faked. You’ve known Eridan long enough to know a false threat when you hear it.

“I think I can take that risk. So, dweeb, what are we doing?”

“This might actually keep your attention for more than a few minutes, Serket.” He places the white tome on a large stack of books behind him, opening it to a page covered in filigree, with a beautiful watercolor rendering of a sword bathed in holy light. “This is the holy weapon Excalibur. It’s said that whoever has the capacity to wield it’ll gain power and renown for ages to come, on top’a havin’ a legendary, god level weapon at your disposal.”

Holy shit, talk about narrative guidance. Maybe wielding this sword was your destiny all along. “Does this book say anything about where it is? Or what it does? Are we going to go find it or what?!”

Eridan raises his hand to stop you from talking, shutting the book on the stack. “It doesn’t have anythin’ that concrete, but luckily for us, this sword has quite the track record. Findin’ it was simply a matter’a findin’ the most recent owner.”

He bends down and scoops up another book, leather bound and small. He flips to the last few pages and shoves a map into your face in a bit of mini revenge for earlier.

“You really think it’s this close? That seems a little convenient.”

“Look, if you wanna complain about convenience, that’s fine. Just do it on the way to the magic cave.” Eridan rolls his eyes at you and starts shoving you in the direction of the door. You quickly pat away the nerd germs, but you do follow, albeit with a bit of hesitance.

Terezi deserves this, right? Right. You shouldn’t second guess yourself.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes the two of you four hours to get to the cave, even with Eridan’s dorky hoverboard. By the time you finally arrive, you think you’re going to throw up. Having to inhale his cologne that much for so long is going to give you some permanent brain damage.

He stares up a waterfall, glaring at the sheer height. He taps hand against your arm without turning to look at you. “You’re too heavy. Get off my board so I can get up there.”

You baulk, shoving him. “Fuck no! What, you expect me to climb this whole cliff by myself?”

“Yeah. You’re always braggin’ about how strong you are, are you suddenly too weak to handle a petty cliff?”

You huff. He _is_ right. You _are_ strong. You give him another shove before you hop into the water with a splash. It’s only about knee deep, but wading through it is making you seriously regret not taking off your coat first. Well, maybe not. Regret is for pussies.

Taking two solid chunks of cliff into your hands, you start your ascent. You can hear Eridan whoosh up to the top without you and you grit your teeth in irritation. Of course he doesn’t have to try. He’s the fucking reapers son. He does the impossible in his sleep. Whatever. It just means you need to buck the fuck up and try harder. You will win. After all, you did promise to defeat death.

With that, you claw your way up to the top. The waterfall has been coming from this pool, flowing out from the mouth of a massive whitestone cave. When you finally get there, Eridan is standing on his hoverboard, looking at his nail beds and absently texting. The two of you may have known each other since childhood, but you seriously fucking hate him.

“You’re finally up? Good. Turns out the caves magical properties are gonna short out my board, so you’re gonna have to carry me through.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because fish shit in this water, an’ I’m not about to put my fuckin’ feet in it.”

“Suck it up! It’s coming from a magic cave, how nasty could it be.”

“Germs are everywhere, Serket, now do you want the sword or not?” He sounds increasingly smug, but while you pant and glare, you also know he’s right. That doesn’t mean you’re not dumping him into the lake on the way back, though. Or drowning him. It’s something to consider, and it helps you from grumbling as Eridan gingerly steps into your back for his begged piggy-back ride. You slosh through the water to irritate him as you approach the mouth of the cave.

The entrance is full of rock spikes. You think they’re stalagmites? Maybe stalactites. You’ve never gone through general education, but you think the distinction is meaningless anyway. The point is, they form a clear path. You think you can see the air sparkle as you near it, and as you enter in, the cave remains as bright and clear the farther you go into it.

Eridan has pulled out the book again, resting the thick weight of it on your head. “This is the holy blade’s final restin’ place. It seems like the farther we get, the more enchanted the air becomes.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, the more fakey-fake magic bullshit we encounter, the closer we’re gettin’.”

You roll your eyes. Does he really have to clarify that every time magic is involved? He’s a grim fucking reaper, you’d think he would be a little more sympathetic to the plight of magic. Or anything really.

You notice a faint golden shimmer from the corner of the cave and immediately slog towards it. You don’t care if Eridan had a point, you want your new weapon _now_.

“Hey! Excallibitch! Nap time is over!”

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, a pretty little fairy pops out from behind a floor spike, gold shimmer dropping out from behind her like the world's most flamboyant fart. She looks shocked to see the two of you.

She shakes herself out of it and flutters towards you, leaving a shower of that golden dust as she goes. Getting a better look at her, she seems familiar. The spritely figure and outfit remind you of someone you definitely aren’t trying to think about right now. Terezi can get the fuck out of your head. “H-hello? Are you here to see Excalibur?”

Eridan is about to talk when you interrupt him. “He’s passed out somewhere right? Point us in the right direction.”

You hear Eridan’s indignant huff while taking in the look of guilt the fairy gives you. “I’m so sorry miss. Excalibur hasn’t been here for many centuries now. His final resting place hasn’t been very final at all.”

“What?!” You drop Eridan into the still water of the cave, whipping around to look at him. You turn just in time to see him save the book, holding it over his head while the rest of him dunks into the water. Like he’s laying in acid, he shoots up and tries to shake himself clean. Before he can crawl up the wall out of sheer terror, you grab him by the cape. “You said he would be here, Ampora! What’s your fucking aim here?”

“What would I have to gain invitin’ you to an empty cave?” He yanks himself out of your grasp, still damp, still trying to get himself dry again. “I’m just as upset as you are.”

“I really fucking doubt it!”

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt but…” The fairy gently floats between the two of you, trying to make herself smaller. “I think I may know where he went?”

“UGH! Why didn’t you say so! Why is everyone so fucking incompetent!”

She flits back out of fear, smacking into Eridan’s chest with a small “eep”. “Miss if you could please stop screaming?”

You kick a floor spike and glare at her. “What the fuck does that accomplish! Nothing! I don’t need all this fucking dead weight!”

“An I thought Kar had anger issues.” The comment barely leaves Eridan’s mouth and you’re already on him, pushed back into the water. Both of you are submerged, your hands clinging around his throat in a shitty chokehold.

Then the world pops and refocuses. The glimmering light of the cave breaks into harsh daylight, and both of your heads are removed from the crisp water of the cave with a glimmer of golden sparks, forcing the two of you to stand back up.The shock jars you away from Eridan, and he immediately gasps for air, glasses sliding off his face. Something stings your back.

You reach, and after a moment of struggling, you nab it, still angry from before. You grab paper, with a single name and an address. The reaction pulled from you is so intensely bitter that you can’t help but laugh about it.

“What? What could it possibly be, you fucking psychopath?” Eridan glares at you, trying to rub water off of his glasses with his water drenched vest.

“Kephrossi Vantas, Eridan. Fucking Vantas. Of course his ancestors fucked a god weapon.” You’re still cackling. At this point it’s starting to hurt. What the fuck did you do to the universe recently for THIS to be the sum of your karma tally. So much about having all the luck, your only line to a new partner and it’s Karkat fucking Vantas.

“This is still good, I think. Maybe Excalibur is still with the family?” Eridan is already trying to puzzle the situation together again, but you aren’t having it.

“No, no. At this point, Excalibur is has probably committed to life as a hermit as far away from society as possible, because there’s no way in hell he could have interacted with a Vantas and come out without a migraine and a lingering sense of cosmic punishment.” You wipe a tear from your eye, crumpling the paper and dropping it into the pond. “Face it, Ampora. There’s no easy way to do anything in this world. Trying to attain a “get out of partnership free” card was stupid kiddy bullshit.”

“That’s not what I wanted Excalibur for. Unlike you, me an’ my partner work well together.”

You glare. “Me and Terezi are doing great, thanks.”

“Oh absolutely. Is that why you were walkin’ around like a kicked puppy before I asked you to come with? Clearly this pity invite didn’t lift your spirits as much as I fuckin’ thought it might.”

“Look! Whatever dissatisfaction me and my partner have for each other in a totally mutual way isn’t your fucking business!”

“So Ter’s mad at you? You could’a started with that.” He sits down on the rim of rocks surrounding the pond, pulling off his cape to wring the water out of it.

Your lip pokes out with indignance. He doesn’t have to be so fucking smug about it. “It doesn’t matter. She’s probably looking for another partner already, too.”

“Or she’s bein’ a decent person, who brought her issues up with you, an’ your melodramatic ass flew off the fuckin’ handle, like usual.”

“How the fuck do you know.”

“Vriska, I’m your oldest friend. I know your particular brand of bullshit very fuckin’ well.”

You wade through the water just to punch his chest full force. He takes it at an average impact, and you can’t help but think about how unfair this is. You hate this asshole, you always have. You’re going to kill him someday. Until then though, maybe his friendship is enough. Keep your enemies close, right?

You take a seat next to him. “So what should I do, oh master of compassion and amicability?”

“Apologize. Work on the shit you’ve been doin’ wrong. Your partner deserves you at your best, yeah?”

“I _have_ been at my best. Apparently, she doesn’t want to be left behind. She thinks I’m going to run off and get killed.”

“You probably will, but you should at least attempt to tell her you’ll try not to.”

You groan. This is the kind of shit that slows progress down to a halt. You feel like doing pushups just thinking about all the time you’re going to spend reassuring her and compromising your success for her and slowing down so she can keep up with you. You groan. “I’m going to have to work twice as hard to compensate.”

“Or, here’s a concept, take what she does well already and start appreciatin’ it.” He cracks his cape into the wind to send water flying down the cliff face, looking down at you with his soaked hair and water droplet covered glasses. “Do you wanna head back, or do you wanna wallow in this shitty magical lake for the next month.”

You do want to go, but you’re not going to go on his terms. He’s already being smarmy enough. You steal Eridan’s hoverboard from it’s bag on his back and hop on, dragging Eridan by the collar until he’s forced to step onto it, then dropping into a harsh dive down the side of the cliff. You definitely need to steal this from him.

 

* * *

 

The long ride home gets you thinking. About partnership, Terezi, what you want out of life. You’re fully zoned out for most of it.

Until you see the pointed spires of the school peeking out from the cold evening desert, and Eridan’s grip on your shoulders tightens.

“What is it, you dramatic douche.”

“Oh, so now you want to talk about emotions? When it doesn’t have anything to do with you an your accountability.”

“Exactly. Fess up.”

Eridan groans, and you can almost feel his constipated look of disgust over your shoulder. “I was really hopin’ we’d find somethin’ today.”

“Why? I thought you and Sollux were fine?”

“Our partnership is, but he isn’t. He got hurt a few days back, and he still hasn’t recovered any.”

“Right.” Shit. A conversation about that fucking infirmary. You still remember the way that nurse used to look at you, and the guilt you couldn’t escape, laying in that bed, Tavros five feet from you. The nurse wouldn’t stop talking about how tragic the whole incident was, how out of your control it must have been, how you must’ve tried your best. How even your best falling short must’ve been heartbreaking. Your eye socket begins to hurt. “And you wanted to use Excalibur until he got better?”

“No. Excalibur is a holy weapon, Serket. It means he can perform miracles.”

“And you don’t think any of the Vantas’s have godhood wedged up their sleeves?”

“Unfuckin’likely. No, it’s been centuries since he’s been seen, right? The Vantas line must be diluted by this point. Seein’ as we don’t know what’s exactly wrong with him, there’s no way traditional healin’ is gonna do much.”

“Well, here’s hoping he isn’t as fucked up as Tavros was.”

Eridan grunts. “Vris, Tav’s been awake for weeks. Someone told you, right?”

“Oh.” Of course you do. There’s no way you can walk back into that room though. Your shoulders tense in a way that makes Eridan sigh in disappointment behind you.

“No one’s forcin’ you to visit him. If you had a moral compass, maybe it would, but I’m not gonna stand here an’ preach to you about shit you should know already.”

“Thanks for the charity. If I had to listen to your voice anymore my ears might fall off.” You don’t need to be guilt tripped by Eridan Ampora of all people. You can hear his jaw open and shut before he seems to decide not to talk anymore, and you have never been more grateful to him.

You spend the night sleeping on the roof of the DWMA, waiting for the universe to bring you your narrative comeuppance.


End file.
